


take a picture of all my flaws

by laurenjauregui



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Celebrity Crush, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:58:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 117,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenjauregui/pseuds/laurenjauregui
Summary: Camila Cabello loves three things in life; her family, her friends, and Lauren Jauregui, her favourite actress in TV drama 'Silverhollow'. And, of course, the university course at Stanford that she worked her ass off to get into.Lauren Jauregui owes everything she has to 'Silverhollow'. It gave her success, money, and fame. But as filming for season three wraps, Lauren decides she needs to get away from it all, and starts taking in-person classes at Stanford University, where she finds herself intrigued by Camila, the only person who doesn't seem to know who she is.





	1. Chapter 1

Camila

It’s when she walks into her very first Wednesday class of the semester that she sees her.

She hadn’t expected it at all; in fact, there weren’t any clear warning signs, and this is the kind of thing that Camila would _need_ a warning for. The only thing she could possibly think of, the only reason _she_ would be here is if she was giving some kind of guest lecture, but this is a literature class, and she’s an _actress._

Camila averts her eyes; she’s the only other person in the room, so she makes sure not to acknowledge the older girl as she makes her way to the back of the lecture theatre; _she_ is sat about midway, laptop open, copy of the novel they were instructed to purchase next to her on the desk, pencil ready for any annotations.

As Camila takes her usual seat at the back, she examines her more carefully. It’s _really_ her. It’s really Lauren Jauregui, and that’s what Camila can’t comprehend. _Why_ is she here?

Admittedly, her first worry is about the show, and the character she’s held so close to her heart for years. Lauren Jauregui plays Vanessa Ramirez on Camila’s favourite teen drama, _Silverhollow,_ set in a town terrorised by brutal killings of high school students. It’s slow-paced, the revelation of the mastermind behind the crimes still hasn’t been revealed after two seasons, and multiple characters have been killed off. But Camila’s favourite part isn’t the _plot_ , it’s the ship that helped her find comfort in her own sexuality, the ship that Lauren Jauregui is one half of, _Vanmilia._ Camila credits her confidence and comfort in her sexuality to the two actresses, Lauren Jauregui and Lucy Vives, who plays Emilia Cortez, but there’s always been something that drew her to Lauren and her character.

So, seeing her in the same lecture hall is more than a little overwhelming. Of course, she’s not going to approach her; she doesn’t want to appear like some crazy rabid fan, and if she _does_ talk to Lauren, it’ll be after she deletes her fan account for her. In fact, the fan account was the reason she’d applied to Stanford in the first place. Lauren had mentioned in an interview that she’d applied to take some classes at Stanford, and Camila was stupid enough to believe that she’d find her wandering around campus, like that’d be totally practical when she’s shooting a show in LA. No, it’d taken Camila a few weeks to deduce that Lauren’s classes were _online_ , which is why it’s so baffling that she’s actually here, fulfilling Camila’s dream from the last two years.

As the lecture hall fills up and the class starts, Camila isn’t really focusing, even though she should because this is her first lecture and they’re being given important points to listen to. No, she’s all the more focused on staring at Lauren as she types, wondering if she _should_ talk to her after all.

She pushes that thought away when class ends and a couple of girls go up to Lauren as she’s packing her things away, and invite her to lunch. Camila overhears them introducing herself, and when she hears Lauren’s husky voice, she almost melts, but she finds herself rolling her eyes when the girls giggle, and the ringleader clearly says, “Oh, obviously I know who you are! We’re fans of the show!”

Camila passes by, acting like they’re not there, and knowing that she’ll have missed her opportunity unless Lauren is in the same group for the smaller, workshop style classes. Not that Camila would be able to get a word out to the girl who basically helped her accept herself without ever _meeting_ her. No, if she’s going to talk to her, she needs to plan it carefully. She doesn’t want to be brushed off as just another fan when Lauren means so much to her.

She heads to her next class of the day, knowing that she has the workshop after her lunch. If Lauren is there, maybe she’ll sit with her.

(She knows she won’t, because she’s far too much of a chicken.)

She sends a quick text to her best friend, wondering if she _should_ try to talk to Lauren. The only problem is, she wouldn’t know what to say to the _famous actress._ Any story Camila had would be boring in comparison to Lauren’s life.

**_Chancho (10:59AM): dinah oh my god HELP lauren jauregui is in my class!!!!_ **

**_Cheechee (11:00AM): What_ **

**_Chancho (11:00AM): yes!!!! the REAL lauren jauregui is in my fucking class do i talk to her or not????_ **

**_Cheechee (11:01AM): Not yet u would just embarrass yourself lol we need to plan this so you can get in her pants_ **

**_Chancho (11:01AM): dinah……. i don’t wanna get in her pants and she’s straight anyway it’s just her character that’s into girls_ **

**_Cheechee (11:02AM): Hah bad luck mila!! Anyway we’ll figure out what ur gonna say to her later at home bc knowing u u would just cry about how hot she is and look weird_ **

**_Chancho (11:03AM): good to know you have faith in me_ **

She locks her phone, and while she’s a little offended, she knows that Dinah is right. If she tried talking to Lauren without some kind of plan, she’d end up blurting out that she’s a big fan, and then Lauren wouldn’t see her as a potential friend. No, she can’t say anything without a plan.

As she tucks her phone into her pocket, the group of girls that had somehow wrangled Lauren into conversation passes her by.

“So, Vanessa- oh, wait, sorry, _Lauren_ ,” the clear ringleader says, and even _Camila_ cringes at that. She’s not close enough to them to see the way the light leaves Lauren’s eyes at the mistake, but she _does_ see the way she seems to crumple in on herself. “You _have_ to tell us what’s going to happen next week on the show! Have you finished filming season three yet?”

Camila doesn’t hear Lauren’s answer – they continue on down the hall, but she can’t help but feel _bad_ for the older girl. But then, she remembers the millions of fans and _dollars_ she must have, and it’s a little harder to feel sympathetic. Especially because that’s something Camila yearns for, just musically, rather than in acting.

Her next few classes and the hour she has for her lunch pass quickly enough; she relays to Normani and Ally about how her idol had magically shown up in her class. Normani just laughs and murmurs something about how she’s got to make a bet with Dinah on whether or not Camila will embarrass herself in front of Lauren, but Ally solemnly replies, “just remember that she’s human too, Mila.”

Camila brushes the words off. Lauren is a _celebrity_ , and _yes_ , she is a person too, but when do celebrities _ever_ get treated like real people?

When she shows up to her workshop for the class she’d seen Lauren in that morning, her heart soars when she sees that the older girl is already there. She’s sat midway again, and Camila takes the desk behind her. Nosily, she sees the iMessage conversation open on Lauren’s desktop, unable to read the texts themselves, but she sees the contact is _Lucy Vives._ Admittedly, she’s a little excited about that; while the fictional ship on the _show_ is the thing she loves, she _does_ kind of ship Lauren and Lucy, too. A lot of people in the fandom are like that, but they’re a lot more into it than Camila is. She’s not sure if it’s because she’s more bothered about the fictional characters, or if it’s because she’d rather ship _herself_ with Lauren.

But Lauren is straight, she’s said it before in an interview, way back when season one was airing in 2014. The _Vanmilia_ ship didn’t start taking off properly until around halfway through the season, and an interviewer had asked her what she thought of the ship and if she _relates_ to it herself. Lauren had quickly responded with, “I actually didn’t know that my character’s storyline would go that way, and while I think the representation for young LGBT people is amazing, I don’t relate to it in any way myself. I’m straight.”

 _Then_ , she’d spent the rest of the interview talking about her boyfriend at the time, a guy called Luis from her hometown, and for the next couple months before their breakup, she’d post pictures with him constantly.

(A couple of months back, it came to light that Luis actually had a _boyfriend_ now, which merely fuelled the more intense Laucy shippers who loved to speculate Lauren’s sexuality, claiming that they were each other’s beards because Lauren _wasn’t ready_ to come out.)

Getting out her own laptop, she’s quick to x out of the last tab she’d been in on Chrome; a YouTube video compilation of _Vanmilia’s cutest moments_. She leaves it open on a Google search bar and a fresh Word document, and then realises that her water bottle is almost empty, so she stands up and heads towards the door. Lauren is still the only other person in the classroom, and while Camila is wondering where that group of girls are, she takes this as her opportunity to turn around and say, “Do you mind watching my stuff while I go fill my water bottle up?”

Lauren looks up, like she’s surprised she’s being spoken to, but once the words sink in, she nods easily. “Sure.”

Camila flashes an awkward smile and walks out of the classroom, hoping she looks a lot less nervous than she _feels_ , because it’s like Lauren’s eyes were burning holes through the back of her neck as she walks away.

Lauren

She slams the apartment door shut, dropping her backpack on the floor and immediately falling on the couch, closing her eyes, wanting to flush any memory of today from her head. So far, taking real college classes hasn’t scratched up to the expectations she’d had.

It was fine this morning; she’d made sure to set off early so she could pick up a pastry and coffee for breakfast, and she’d arrived at her first lecture early, too. The class was interesting enough, but then everything started going downhill. At first, she thought the girls were just trying to be friendly to a new student, but then they’d said they were fans of the show. That’s fine too, she _appreciates_ that, but _then_ they kept calling her by her character’s name, and they didn’t actually want to know anything about her. Just about what’s going to happen on the show. She’d excused herself to the bathroom and didn’t go back to them after, opting to go to her next class early. Nobody else had bothered to talk to her, except for that one girl who asked her to look after her bags, and then on her way home, she was hounded by some paparazzi, asking if the ever-circulating rumours about her sexuality were true. Not the best day she’s ever had.

She’s not even particularly upset about the whole thing. She’s just so _tired_ of it all. That was her whole point when she wanted to come out here and take proper classes, rather than the online ones she’d been doing for the last three years. She’s so sick and tired.

She’d been feeling that way for a while now, probably since filming for season two wrapped. The show never stopped gaining popularity, and while she loves that she gets to pursue her passion as a _career_ , she’s sick of the way she gets treated. If people aren’t rabid fans or paparazzi, they put her on some stupid pedestal, acting like she’s perfect, and it all started to get at her. Especially when she was struggling through her own issues at the time, and then there are all of these people pointing things out and making her feel _worse_. When the fans acted like she was some kind of goddess, it made her feel so much pressure, and she finally started to break under it. When she started to show some cracks, some _humanity_ , they started to turn on her, saying that she’s _changed_ , that she’s not the person they were a fan of.

If anything, that just made her feel worse, and admittedly, she’d started to spiral. She’s lucky in the sense that the tabloids and social media didn’t capture a lot of it, but she’d started spending time with people she shouldn’t have been spending time with, doing things she shouldn’t be doing, and she isn’t sure what would’ve happened if her parents hadn’t flown out from Florida because they were _worried_. She’d spoken to them properly, about how she was feeling, and they’d all come to the conclusion that maybe she should just take a break.

It wasn’t that easy, though. She’d already signed on as a main cast member for season three of _Silverhollow_ , and contracts aren’t easy to get out of. So, she’d called the director and the writers and the network explained how she was feeling. It’d taken a lot of persuasion, since arguably her character, along with Lucy’s, are the two most popular on the show, and a _little_ bit of crying, and they’d finally agreed to write her out. Lauren Jauregui would _not_ be appearing in season four, and they were eventually going to find a new love interest for Lucy’s character.

The news still hasn’t come out yet; they’ve only just announced the season four renewal, and season three is still pretty much halfway through airing, on episode five of twelve. Besides, if she announced that she was leaving the show, and considering the show’s _context_ , people would assume she’d been killed off and just spoiled the whole thing. She _hadn’t_ been; the network wanted to give her the choice of coming back if she wanted to, but her character _had_ been attacked, and there’s a cliffhanger towards the end of the season about the whole thing before she recovers and leaves the town, shaken from the events of the prior episode.

She sits up from the couch, sighing at how _empty_ the apartment is. She’d only just moved in, her parents and siblings helping her unpack everything, but it’s not that. It’s the empty space around her that bothers her. She’d never been able to live alone; she’d gone straight from her parents’ house to rooming with Lucy in LA after getting the part in _Silverhollow_ , then she’d hastily moved in with her ex boyfriend, Luis, once the inevitable gay rumours started swirling around. When they’d broken up, she’d tried living alone for a few months until she finally snapped and moved in with her next boyfriend after that. She’d jumped from parents to friends to boyfriend’s places, never able to be properly _alone_.

But now she is. Her family had flown back to Miami because her siblings were starting school and her parents were back at work, and they’d left her here, a five hour drive away from the closest friend she has. She’s never felt more isolated, but she guesses it’s something she _has_ to do. Every college student _does_ , right? It’s just part of the experience, and then you’ve got to go out and _make_ your friends.

_Except usually they’re not starting in their senior year, and usually they haven’t been on a hit TV show since age seventeen._

She thinks about that for a while. She’d dropped out of high school, getting her GED online. She’d missed prom and graduation with all of her friends, and had to sit and scroll through Instagram timelines, liking all the pictures she should’ve been in. Her best friend Alexa had promised her it wasn’t that great, but Lauren had always known she was lying.

 _You’re filming a TV show,_ everyone would say when she’d be upset about missing things, _you’re living your dream!_

 _Yes,_ Lauren would always think, _then why does it feel like I’m not?_

It hadn’t even been certain that the show would be a hit. It never is, with things like that. But it had. It had taken off, gotten renewed for a second season, then a third, and Lauren finally experienced the true ugliness of the industry. Being poked and prodded, plucked and painted, made out to be this perfectly well-adjusted young woman when really she was falling apart. Kids would look to her for advice, like a role model, but she had no idea what she was doing. She _still_ doesn’t.

Of course, there were always the rumours. There still _are_ , but they don’t bother her anymore. When the writers told her that she was to be paired with Lucy as a _couple_ , she’d been a little uncomfortable, but didn’t think anything of it. She’d never had a problem with LGBT people, but when she realised she _liked_ the kissing scenes she shared with Lucy, it’d made her question everything she’d known about herself. Then, when the show aired, fans went crazy, speculating both her and Lucy’s sexualities. While Lucy had come right out and announced _yeah I’m pretty gay,_ Lauren freaked. She didn’t get why people saw that on her in _real life_ , and spent a long time asserting her straightness while she figured out that she was _actually_ bisexual. She still hasn’t gone public with the information, but the constant harassment and _invasiveness_ makes her _want_ to keep it to herself. In a way, she’s almost doing it out of spite, because she doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being right.

Sort of, anyway. She’s only ever had boyfriends, four to be exact, three of them since getting the part on _Silverhollow._ She’s had crushes on girls before, and she’s obviously kissed Lucy because of the show, but she wouldn’t at _all_ know how to actually pursue another woman. Guys are easy to manipulate, but Lauren has always had a weird awkward streak around insanely pretty women.

Really, she’s surprised it didn’t click sooner when she thinks back to kindergarten. The prettiest girl in her class had told Lauren she liked her dress, and Lauren had awkwardly giggled and mumbled ‘you thank’ because her brain clearly failed to function after a compliment from a pretty girl.

She sighs, looking around the empty apartment again, wishing it’d be easier to go out and make some friends without getting gawked at or getting referred to as her character the whole time. Pushing herself off the couch, she goes over to the kitchen, and decides to make herself some dinner before she really loses all of her energy.

She prepares herself an easy meal, a quick chicken salad, and opens up Twitter, figuring that she might as well make a fan’s day, even if her own has been a little sucky. She scrolls through her mentions, ignoring the usual _Laucy is real_ posts, although she _does_ screenshot a ridiculous _Titanic_ edit with Lucy as Jack and Lauren as Rose, and sends it to Lucy over text.

Then, she likes a couple of fan tweets, and replies to a few more before people realise she’s online and the _real_ onslaught begins. She has to admire their passion, and she smiles a little as she writes out a tweet.

 **@LaurenJauregui** Hi babies, I missed you! Tweet me with #asklauren and I’ll answer some of your questions.

Camila

When Camila gets the notification _just_ as she’s about to deactivate the fan account she’s had for years, she quickly writes out a few questions and sends them off. She doesn’t expect Lauren to reply; she’s never had a notice, even though she’s been following her since the first episode of _Silverhollow_ aired, so when she sees _Lauren Jauregui replied to your tweet!_ she almost has a heart attack.

 **@lgbtjauregui** is it true that you’re taking classes irl at Stanford now?? also ilysm  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@lgbtjauregui_ It was bound to get out at some point! Yes, I am, and I love you too!

 _Oh my god she loves me too_ is the first thing that pops into Camila’s head, even though she knows Lauren doesn’t _really_ mean it. She wants to screenshot the tweet, because she doesn’t want this account associated with her if she’s going to talk to Lauren at all at school. But, as her finger hovers over the _deactivate_ button, she doesn’t have the heart. She cancels it, and merely signs out, unlinking the account from her phone.

She logs into her backup account, the one she gives people in _real_ life, _@Camila_Cabello_. Keeping that one logged in, she promises herself she won’t be like those girls earlier. In fact, even though Dinah told her to just act like she doesn’t know who Lauren is, Camila is almost making a silent vow _not_ to talk to her.

 _It would be wrong, to lie to her like that, and you know she won’t want to be friends if she knows you’re a fan,_ Camila convinces herself, _just avoid her. Everything will be easier if you forget she ever existed._


	2. Chapter 2

Lauren

“ _You know you’re going to be fine, right? You’ve always been a teacher’s pet, Lo.”_

“No, it’s not that, Lex,” Lauren sighs, running a hand through her hair, “it’s the _people_. It’s like I can’t get anything done because everyone wants something. Can you believe that someone asked me to get them a part on the show yesterday? A total _stranger_?”

“ _There has to be someone that hasn’t been a total dick,”_ Alexa replies, trying to reassure her, “ _it’s not like the entire population has watched the show.”_

“The demographic is people around our age. I don’t know why I thought leaving L.A. would make me unrecognisable all of a sudden.” Lauren rolls her eyes at herself. “It’s like every single person got some kind of _memo_ that I was coming, with the instructions to harass me for pictures or autographs. Someone _else_ asked me to sign like _three hundred_ pictures of myself so they could sell them on _Ebay._ ”

“ _It’ll die down,”_ Alexa reassures her, “ _people just aren’t used to having someone who has any kind of platform around. Once the novelty wears off, it’ll be fine.”_

“I just… I wanted to feel _normal_ , but if anything, being here has made me feel like even more of a freak,” Lauren lies back on her couch, “I haven’t made any friends, either.”

“ _You’ll make some,”_ Alexa says like it’s a total fact, and Lauren _wishes_ it were, “ _I can come visit, if you’re really lonely.”_

“Thanks, Lex, but I’m not going to make you drag all the way here from _Pennsylvania_ ,” Lauren emphasises, leaving out that she’s not going to let her best friend use whatever money she has from her parents for rent and food to buy a plane ticket just because Lauren is feeling a little upset. “I think Lucy’s going to fly up soon, anyway. I called her last night and she said she’d see when she’s free.”

 _“What’s she doing, since you’re not filming anymore? I thought you said filming for the second half of season three wrapped,”_ Alexa asks, _“you film in spring and summer, right?”_

“Yeah, she’s just doing some modelling stuff, and I think she’s filming some Netflix movie in a few months,” Lauren shrugs, checking the time, figuring she might head into college early and go to the library. “Is it stupid that I regret leaving? I thought it’d make the fans lay off, but if anything, it’s like I’ve dropped the one thing I care about for no fucking _point_ , because even though I’m not acting, the fans are still so…”

“ _The show is still airing,”_ Alexa reminds her, _“you’ve just got to make it through to December. Then everyone will know you’ve left the show and you just want to focus on college.”_

“And then after that?” Lauren asks; she’ll graduate in May, and she’ll have the rest of the year to think about. “What then?”

 _“Whatever you want,”_ Alexa says, _“if you want to go back to acting, then you can. If you want to do something else, you can.”_

“I’ve thought about writing,” Lauren admits, “for TV. But then I think about it, and acting is the one thing I’ve _loved_ to do, and I hate that I had to leave it to… to sort myself out.”

“ _You said it yourself; you couldn’t focus on your own mental health when you were literally pretending to be someone else to avoid it.”_ Alexa points out, and Lauren knows she’s right. “ _Everything will settle down, Laur. Promise.”_

“I hope you’re right,” Lauren murmurs, “thanks for talking to me.”

 _“Always,”_ Alexa replies, “ _call me if you need me.”_

She says goodbye, and hangs up, having to literally _mentally prepare_ herself for leaving the house. But she puts on her shoes, throws her backpack onto her shoulders, and reflects on her week so far, and the things she _hadn’t_ told Alexa.

Like _homework._ Fucking homework. She realises she never factored it into the equation when she was deciding she’d be happier finishing college before going back to acting. Because it’s is definitely fucking up all of her plans. She hadn’t realised just how much _reading_ she was supposed to do, along with all the preparations for the smaller workshop style classes. Lectures are fine, ~~because nobody can talk to her while the professor is teaching~~ because she can just sit and take notes and _occasionally_ send some sly texts to Lucy or Alexa through her laptop, but she’s _not_ appreciating the homework at all.

It’s been a total of a week, and _no_ , her situation isn’t much better. People still keep coming up to her, wanting things, asking for autographs and selfies, or wanting to know spoilers for the next _Silverhollow_ episode. She’d seriously hoped she’d make a real friend by this point, but so far, there’s no luck. She wouldn’t even care if they came up to her, saying that they were a fan, just as long as they didn’t treat her like some animal in a zoo. _Or_ , alternatively, treat her like her _character._ She’s finding that’s more annoying than the starstruck selfie-wanters.

(“Vanessa, can you-”

“Vanessa, will you-”

“I’m a really big fan, Vanessa-”

_Nice, but my name isn’t fucking Vanessa.)_

Another problem with the stupid homework is the fact that she can’t seem to sit in the library without being disturbed. She’d found a seat, but then it was like she was a literal Santa Claus at the mall, people _lined up_ just to get a picture while she was trying to work on filling out the questions for her class prep.

Before people could get too excited, she’d packed away her things, murmured an apology, and headed to her American literature professor’s office, ready to apologise for the low quality her class prep would be, since she can’t seem to get any fucking _peace._ When she explains, that’s when he tells her that there’s a small classroom down the hall from his office that rarely ever gets used, and that she has his full permission to do her work in there. So, that’s where she heads.

The door is open, so she assumes that it’ll be free, but as she gets closer, she hears soft singing and the gentle strum of an acoustic guitar. She smiles, and approaches the doorway. The woman’s back is to her as she plays, occasionally pausing to note down a few lyrics or chord changes, and Lauren finds herself almost _entranced_ by it. She stands, just listening, until she realises who it is. It’s the girl from her American literature class, the one who asked her to watch her stuff last week. The only person who _hadn’t_ seemed to know who she is.

Her stomach knots, and there’s this sudden pressure on her when her anxiety taunts her. _This is your one chance to make a real friend. We both know you’re going to fuck it up._

She goes to walk away, to head back home, do her work in that lonely fucking apartment, and come back for class later, but the woman turns around, and it’s like Lauren freezes the second she meets a pair of gentle, welcoming brown eyes.

Camila

When she hears the shuffling of feet behind her, Camila jumps and spins around, gripping tightly onto the neck of the guitar. And _naturally_ , she meets those bright green eyes that she’s seen on TV a million times, but in real life, they’re so much more magical. Just calling them _green_ doesn’t even begin to describe them; it’s like there are entire galaxies in Lauren’s eyes, flecked with gold and jade and diamonds.

“I’m sorry,” Lauren blurts out, and Camila realises she’d been staring, “the professor told me this room was usually free, so… um, but you’re using it, I’m just going to go.”

 _God, she’s so unlike her character_ , Camila thinks to herself, _Vanessa would just kick me out of here._ That train of thought comes to a halt when Lauren turns to go, and Camila blurts out a loud, _“no!_ ” before she blushes at Lauren’s questioning frown. “I mean, uh- there’s no reason we can’t both use the room. I just- uh, need to write some lyrics, so I won’t bother you with my guitar.”

Lauren seems to consider it for a moment, but lets Camila know her decision when she pulls out the chair across from her and dumps her backpack next to her. “Alright. And don’t worry about the guitar, it was really nice. I kind of stood there watching for a few minutes before you realised I was there. Not to sound like a creeper. Which I probably did….”

Camila is _more_ than a little flattered at that. _Lauren Jauregui likes my guitar playing oh my god_ spirals around her head, but she keeps herself composed as Lauren gets her laptop out and opens it up. “Well, thank you. I don’t really… play in front of people, so…”

“Why not?” Lauren asks her, and Camila knows she can’t tell her that she has _stage fright_ , because it’ll just make her look pathetic to the _famous actress._ “You’re really good, I mean that. I know I only heard a little bit, but if you have a talent and a passion for something, you should express it.”

Camila’s stomach flips, and she strums a random chord. If she’s being honest, Lauren was her motivation to learn guitar; Camila had been drooling over her character, a badass who plays guitar in a rock band, and while she’d always _wanted_ to play an instrument, the real motivation was seeing someone who she looks up to playing that same instrument.

“I- well, thanks,” Camila blushes, and already knowing the answer, she asks, “do you play any instruments?”

“Piano. And I know a little bit on guitar, but I’m not… it’s been a couple of years since I’ve played,” Lauren dismisses her, and Camila has to admit that she _hadn’t_ known about the piano thing. She puts that information at the back of her mind, and tries to push back all the images from season one of Lauren playing guitar and how attractive she finds it, “so, what are you practising? If you don’t mind me asking. Are you, um, studying music?”

“I’m studying music and literature, but I’m not doing anything for either right now. I’m just playing around with my own stuff,” Camila shrugs, nodding to her open notepad. “I like to write songs. Usually when I’m goofing off from my actual work.”

( _Mostly because it’s what I want to do with my life, but you don’t care about that,_ Camila doesn’t voice it, because like _Lauren Jauregui_ would give a fuck about a random classmate’s aspirations.)

“That’s really cool,” Lauren’s gaze flicks down to the notebook and back up to meet Camila’s, “I’m sure they’re amazing.”

Camila doesn’t know what to say to that, and Lauren looks down at her computer, typing something out. Eventually, too much time passes, and there’s no point in answering, so Camila goes back to what she was doing before; figuring out a chord progression for this song. They don’t talk, but she’s hyperaware of Lauren’s presence in the room, and she sends a quick SOS text to Dinah, freaking out, because _the actress I vowed to avoid is sitting across from me and we’re alone and she’s_ definitely _hotter in person._

**Cheechee (1:27PM): LOL let me know how badly you embarrass yourself**

Camila rolls her eyes at the response; typical Dinah. She doesn’t even know why she bothered messaging her; Ally would’ve been much nicer.

Distracting herself, she hums the melody she wants the lyrics to take, and strums along with it, trying to get the right pattern. When she’s finally found it, she smiles to herself, notes it down, and looks up to see Lauren watching her.

The older girl blushes when she realises she’s been caught. “Sorry. Um, you’re- you’re in my seminar group for American literature, right?”

“I don’t know, which group are you in?” Camila answers, even though she _knows_ , she’d almost sat next to her in that first class, but thought against it. “Mine’s on Wednesday, 1-2PM.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lauren nods enthusiastically, and Camila’s first thought is _damn, she’s literally Vanessa’s polar opposite_ , and the second being _she’s a fucking puppy,_ “I thought I recognised you. What’s your name?”

“Camila,” Camila replies, and then shrugs and adds, “well, Karla, technically, but I go by my middle name.”

A small smile settles on Lauren’s face, and she looks so small and shy that Camila’s whole heart almost bursts. “I’m Lauren. It’s nice to meet you, Camila.”

“You too, Lauren,” Camila flashes her a smile, and the older girl sends her the cutest, dorkiest, goofiest grin back before looking back at her computer. “Are you working on the preparation for class? Because I’ve had the teacher we have before, he never makes you talk unless you volunteer so you don’t _have_ to do the prep.”

“Oh, uh, I’m actually doing something for a different class, but that’s good to know about the professor,” Lauren shrugs, “I’ll probably still do it anyway, that’s kind of what I came here to do once I finish this, but it’s good to know that if I ever need to ignore some work to get an essay in or something, I can ignore that.”

Camila blushes a little, admitting, “To be honest, I ignore most of the prep unless I know I can’t get away with it. If it doesn’t count for a grade, what’s the point, you know?”

That had been her policy through the entirety of her educational career; back in high school, she was notorious for _forgetting_ non-graded assignments. Once, her reasoning had even gotten her a detention, when she was having a particularly bad day, and a teacher tried to put her on the spot in front of the whole class and asked _why_ she hadn’t done the assignment.

_“If you can’t be bothered to grade it, I don’t see why I should be bothered to do it.”_

(She’s still low-key stunned by her own nerve, but it just sort of _came out.)_

“I get that it could feel unnecessary, but I think I’d stress if I did that. Back in high school, I liked my teachers and they liked me, so I felt that if I skipped the homework I’d _disappoint_ them, and I hate doing that,” Lauren admits, “I know, call me a teacher’s pet, but…”

“No, I think that’s sweet,” Camila blurts out, blushing embarrassedly when she realises what she’d said. Another example of things just coming out of her mouth impulsively. Awkwardly, she puts her guitar back in its case and closes her notebook. “Um, anyway, I’ve got a class. But it was nice to meet you.”

Lauren watches her as she gets up, throwing the strap of her guitar case over her shoulder. “Yeah. Nice to meet you too, Camila.”

As she makes her escape from the gorgeous woman she’s practically _idolised_ for years, she swears to herself that she’ll just avoid her from now on. Lauren won’t remember her by tonight, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Lauren

Lauren sees her as she walks into the lecture hall. She’s sat at the back, and while she usually likes a seat midway, she makes her way up there to sit with Camila. She’d liked talking to her, and it’s the first time she’s felt _normal_ since starting here. If she’s being honest, she’d looked for Camila in her other classes, but it was obvious that they only shared this one. That’s three hours a week; both the lecture and the workshop on Wednesdays, and the other lecture on Friday.

“Hi,” Lauren announces her presence, and Camila looks up from her laptop in surprise, “mind if I sit with you?”

Camila seems to take a moment to let the words sink in – or make a decision – but eventually, she smiles welcomingly and nods, grabbing her bag off the seat next to her so Lauren can sit down. “Sure.”

“So, um, how are you?” Lauren asks, getting her laptop out of her backpack; she’s hyperaware of how _awkward_ she’s being right now, but she’s never really made any actual _friends._ Not since her first day on set for _Silverhollow_ , when she was seventeen, and considering she’s twenty-one, it’s been a while. She notes how much her hands are shaking when she takes her laptop out, but she occupies herself by opening the lid of her laptop and typing in her password. “Did you do your seminar prep?”

Camila laughs good-naturedly. “Of course I didn’t. I _looked_ at it, and it seemed easy enough to just be able to bullshit an answer if I’m called on, which I probably won’t be. Did you do it?”

“Yeah, did it last night,” Lauren says, and while she would’ve _never_ done this back in high school, being the teacher’s pet and all, she opens the document on her laptop and angles the screen towards Camila. “You can copy, if you want. Just in case they check.”

Camila grins at her, and copies down a few of Lauren’s answers, rewording them slightly so it doesn’t look like a straight copy. “Thanks, that should be enough if the professor checks, but we don’t usually have to hand them in. Anyway, I can always say we just did it together if he says the answers are too similar. That was like, my main tactic in this one class I had in freshman year.”

When Camila turns back to her laptop screen, Lauren flounders a little. Since most of her friends were practically handed to her by Alexa or because of the familial feel on set, she doesn’t _really_ know if she’s coming off as weird or not if she continues to push conversation.

 _She’s going to think you’re weird either way, you’re basically a stranger and you keep bothering her,_ Lauren’s mind taunts her, _don’t bother, it’s not like she’ll want to be friends anyway._

Pushing her anxieties out of the way, she sucks in a deep breath of air and tries to _think. You’re an actress,_ she reminds herself, _act like you’re totally confident and cool._ Trying not to dwell on any invasively negative thoughts, she tries to channel the energy she uses on set, and before she can stress about what to say, she casually asks, “So, where are you from?”

Camila frowns, like she hadn’t expected the question, but before Lauren can dig herself into an even deeper hole by worrying about it, she answers, “Cuba, originally. But I’ve lived in Miami since I was like, six.”

“I’m Cuban too,” Lauren announces, like Camila even _cares_ , “only been once, though. And I was born and raised in Miami.”

Camila flashes a smile. “That’s cool. Wonder if we ever bumped into each other there.”

Lauren taps her pen against the table, trying to think of another more interesting way to make friends, but she doesn’t know much past idle conversation, and it’s _definitely_ too early to say _hey, come over and watch a movie with me so I don’t feel as lonely_ , so instead she asks, “so, um, what’s your Friday schedule like? I tried to make sure I got today free, but then I realised that this class had a Friday lecture, and it’s compulsory for my degree, so…”

“I have two classes. One of them is a music one, that’s at two, so I’ve got to wait an hour after this,” Camila shrugs, but surprises Lauren completely by continuing, “I’m probably just going to grab a hot chocolate. You can join me if you want.”

Seeing the clear olive branch, Lauren nods, trying not to look as enthusiastic as she feels. _She’s offering to get drinks with you, don’t fuck it up._ “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’m going to need a coffee, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Oh, that sucks.” Camila replies, “Any reason?”

It’s because she stayed up watching a scary movie and then got too scared to sleep, but Lauren isn’t about to _admit_ that, so she dismisses it, “no, just one of those nights, I suppose.”

Camila goes to say something else, but the professor calls for the class’ attention, starting his lecture. Camila seems to think better of talking, and sends Lauren a small smile before she glances back at her laptop screen, opening up a fresh word document, so Lauren turns to the front. She attempts to focus on the words, but really, she’s more interested in the excitement bubbling at the pit of her stomach at the fact that she might have a genuine friend here.

Camila

When the professor finally comes to the _summary_ slide, Camila’s nerves start acting up again. Just like they had at the start of class, when Lauren had asked to sit next to her. _Why_ would she do that? It’s not like Camila had said anything particularly interesting during their awkward encounter in the classroom the other day. She’d assume Lauren would forget her whole existence, not actively seek her out and make conversation like she had.

She doesn’t know why she’d asked her to come get drinks with her. If she’s being honest, the invitation had slipped out without her leave; the part of her that just _loves_ Lauren so much had taken over, wanting nothing more than to be close to her. And Lauren had accepted.

As the professor clicks off the powerpoint, Lauren closes her laptop and turns to her with a small smile, and everything in Camila _melts_. “So, coffee?”

“Yeah,” Camila agrees, “coffee.”

She packs away her things, again sending an SOS text to Dinah, but she knows her friend is in a class for an hour and a half, and either way, Dinah’s responses to this have proven to be totally unreliable and mocking. She’s so _stupid_ , she doesn’t know why she’d invited Lauren to come for a drink, and she certainly didn’t expect her to _accept_.

“So, um, lead the way,” Lauren gestures ahead of them, “I don’t know where the closest coffee shop is…”

Camila steps around her to lead the way out of the lecture theatre, and she figures now is a better time than any to say, “Is it because you’re new around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before.”

Lauren looks a little guilty when she merely responds, “Yeah, I was doing my degree online, but after a lot of thought, I decided in person teaching would be better.”

“Oh,” _so she’s not going to tell me she’s an actress,_ “well, how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s not exactly living up to expectations,” Lauren answers, murmuring a small _thanks_ as Camila holds the door to the building open for her and they step out into the sunlight. “I guess there’s always going to be this whole image of the college _lifestyle_. Friends, parties, no homework. So far it’s just been _all_ homework.”

“The only people who live the _college lifestyle_ are the ones that drop out in first semester freshman year,” Camila deadpans; her roommate had been the type, until she’d dropped out and been replaced by Dinah in January. “Seriously, don’t feel pressured to do that stuff. I pretty much _never do_.”

Lauren looks a little conflicted, but nods. “I guess you’re right. I don’t know, it’s just weird being in a different environment.”

Camila laughs good-naturedly, “as opposed to sitting in your parents’ basement doing your college classes on an old laptop?”

Lauren snorts with laughter, and Camila’s heart flutters as she thinks _oh my god Lauren Jauregui laughed at my joke_. “Yeah, totally.”

“But aside from the pressure of the whole college lifestyle, how are you finding it?” Camila asks. “Like, with classes and stuff.”

“Classes are fine,” Lauren answers, “I guess everything just kind of _is_ , you know? Not particularly special in any way.”

Camila hums, because she can definitely agree with that. She had a lot of anticipations about college too – one of them being that she’d run into Lauren around campus, which is _finally_ happening – but she doesn’t think she can _tell_ her that. “I hope it eventually lives up to whatever hopes you have.”

Lauren shrugs, and as Camila turns towards the nearest campus coffee shop, she speeds up a little and opens the door for her. “There’s a table over there, if you want to grab it. I’ll get the drinks.”

Camila frowns, but digs some cash from her pocket, “Here, for my hot chocolate-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren sends her a soft smile, “I got it.”

Before she can do anything about it, Lauren gets in line. Camila hesitates, but sees someone going towards the table by the window, and she practically dives over to the comfortable chairs, dumping her backpack on the other one, to avoid being stuck on the awkward stools at the other vacant tables.

She finds herself watching Lauren as she’s stood in line. She knows that’s not particularly interesting, but she finds it cute, the way Lauren bounces lightly from the ball of one foot to another as she waits, the way her thumb and forefinger worry at the cuff of her jacket sleeve almost _nervously_. She wonders what a famous actress would have to worry about, but she guesses college deadlines would bother anyone.

She realises she’s staring when Lauren picks up the drinks and turns around, meeting her gaze. Green eyes light up as she sends her the cutest smile, walking across with two mugs and putting the hot chocolate in front of Camila on the table.

Camila reaches out and grabs her backpack off the other seat so Lauren can sit down, and the older girl practically melts into the soft cushions, taking a sip of her coffee. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get them to go, but you did mention you had an hour before your next class…”

“Yeah, I usually just come in here and play on my phone, so having company is a little better,” Camila comments, and before Lauren can say anything, she adds, “so… you mentioned you’re Cuban too?”

She knows this; she knows a _lot_ about the woman across from her, and it makes her feel like a total fucking _stalker_ , but in Camila’s defence, Lauren is a public figure. It’s okay that she knows her favourite animal is a tiger, that her main hobby is painting and sketching, that her favourite band is The 1975, that she hates socks, that she has a fear of death by strangulation, too much mundane knowledge that she’s picked up from interviews and somehow remembered because she’s kind of been crushing on her since season one of _Silverhollow_ aired in 2014.

“Yeah, like I said, only been one time when I was really young for some distant cousin’s wedding,” Lauren shrugs, “I don’t remember it. The only proof I have that I was _there_ is the fact that my mom turned into like, amateur photographer when it came to me and my siblings in formal clothes.”

“I get that. Any time I wear something other than plaid I think my mom has a whole party to celebrate,” Camila snorts, “but, you know, I guess I’m a walking stereotype.”

Lauren almost seems to look her up and down, and Camila can understand why. Gay women around their age tend to be Lauren’s demographic, so she’s probably suspecting something. But then, Lauren just announces, “well, if that’s a stereotype, maybe I should start wearing plaid for half the year.”

Camila blinks at the words, because _did she just tell me she’s bisexual?_ But, not wanting to make Lauren feel uncomfortable, she just laughs easily, “yeah, it’s like the law, if you’re a Sapphic woman you have to wear flannel at least five times a week. And you have to play golf, apparently.”

“I’m afraid the only sport I know how to play is softball,” Lauren says, and Camila _knows_ that, because Lauren had mentioned she played the sport in high school in a magazine interview. “I used to play golf on Wii Sports with my brother when we were younger, mostly just because we both _sucked_ as much as each other, so it was a fair fight.”

“You have a brother?” Camila makes herself sound inquisitive, because she _already knows_ that Lauren has two younger siblings. “Younger, or older?”

“I’m the oldest of three. Got a little brother and a little sister.” Lauren tells Camila what she knows. “They’re not so little anymore, though. Both are taller than me, so technically I’m the little one. I expected _Chris_ to be taller, but when I went home and _Taylor_ was, I felt _tiny_. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, a little sister. Her name is Sofi and she’s kind of one of my best friends,” Camila admits, knowing that she probably sounds completely lame naming a child as her best friend, “she’s almost ten, but... totally too wise. And probably smarter than me.”

Lauren smiles. “That’s cute, that you’re close.”

“Anyway,” Camila takes a sip of her drink, “are you a junior?”

“Senior,” Lauren _again_ tells her what she knows, “but like I said, I did the first three years through online school.”

Camila sends her a teasing smile. “In your parents’ basement.”

“Yeah,” Lauren grins back, “totally.”

As Lauren finishes off her drink, her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. She takes it out and looks down at it, and Camila sees the contact name on the screen, immediately recognising it as the director of _Silverhollow_. She’s a little confused when Lauren’s face falls, when she sighs and sends the call to voicemail.

Looking up at Camila, she quickly opens up her contacts and pushes her phone across the table to Camila. “You should… um, put your number in. If you want.”

Camila blinks in surprise, and picks up Lauren’s phone, putting in her name with the pizza emoji, and adding in her phone number. She’s completely shocked, but she tries not to show it; she doesn’t understand why someone like _Lauren_ would want _her_ number. Lauren is an _award-winning actress_. Camila is just some random college student with pretty much _nothing_ interesting going on.

“I should go… call them back, but…” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip as she shrugs her jacket back on, “yeah, I’ll… see you in class.”

“See you in class,” Camila replies a little dazedly as Lauren makes her exit, her eyes following the green-eyed girl until she’s out of the café doors. She stares down at her own phone, almost as if she expects a text to come through instantly, not sure what to think.

All she knows is that she _needs_ to talk to Dinah about this.

Lauren

“I don’t _want_ to come back to the show.”

_“We’re worried about the backlash. You’re one of our most popular characters and-”_

“And I left the show. I thought I made myself clear. I need a break, and I _agreed_ not to be killed off purely because I may come back once I’ve finished college.” Lauren sighs. “I’m done, I’m not signing on for season four. That’s that.”

She hangs up before the director can protest, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. Glancing back at the coffee shop in the distance, she wonders if she should go back to Camila, apologise for taking the call, but she already feels awkward. She doesn’t know why she’d asked for her number, and knows it was probably far too forward, but she just… _felt_ something. Not to sound crazy.

She feels increasingly stupid when she remembers she’d actually _come out_ to Camila. She’s not ashamed of her bisexuality; far from it, she’s _proud_ to be bisexual, but Camila could tell everyone. Granted, Camila hadn’t seemed to recognise her, and maybe she’s never watched an episode of _Silverhollow_ in her life, but if she _found out_ and realised that Lauren wasn’t out publicly yet? She wonders how much _that_ story would sell for.

She tries not to think about it, and decides to head back to her lonely apartment, hoping that the walk will calm her down. She pulls her box of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and lights one up. She only smokes when she’s stressed. _Just don’t worry about it. If the world finds out, they find out._ She sighs, taking a drag, hyperaware of the murmurs that break out when she walks past a group of girls sat outside studying.

It makes her wish she had the same skill set as Arya Stark, that she could change her face whenever she wanted. Not to _kill_ people obviously, but just to escape for a little while. She’s so sick of feeling like some spectacle in a freak show, and while it’s not as bad as L.A. with the paparazzi, there’s still the stares. It’s like they think she can’t _see_ them.

Acting like she _doesn’t_ notice, she focuses on getting off campus and back to the apartment. The empty apartment. _You should invite Camila over_. _No_ , she pushes the thought away _, you barely know her_.

 _But she’s the only one who has treated you like a real person,_ she reminds herself, _that counts for something._

She puts her headphones on in the hope that nobody will talk to her, keeps her head down as she walks, and for the most part, it works. She gets a few double-takes, but nobody approaches her, and when she’s back in her apartment, she feels like she can _breathe_.

The apartment may be empty, but at least that means nobody to _stare_ at her like she’s some interesting exhibition.

Dropping her backpack onto the floor, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks at the new contact in her phone. Camila had saved herself as _Camila Cabello,_ and while she feels like a total fucking stalker doing it, Lauren searches for her on Instagram. She finds her easily, and scrolls through the few pictures on her account. The last one was posted about a week back, a selfie with another girl, tagged as user _allybrooke_ , and Lauren’s finger hovers over the _follow_ button for a moment until she realises she’s on the wrong account, her _public, verified_ account, and she _can’t_ follow Camila on that.

No, that would mean Camila asking questions. Not that she’d need to; Lauren’s bio literally _says_ ‘ _Vanessa Ramirez on Silverhollow’_ , and that would pretty much spell it out to anyone with half a brain. She quickly switches to her other account, her private account, one with no mention of that stupid TV show that sometimes she thinks _ruined her life_ , and presses _follow_ before she can stress about it. Camila will have to request to follow her back if she wants to do that, but Lauren knows she’d accept in a heartbeat.

 _There’s just something about her_ , she thinks again, _hopefully it’s something good._


	4. Chapter 4

Camila

She hasn’t texted.

She’s been obsessively checking her phone, waiting for Lauren to text, but she _hasn’t_. She doesn’t get why she’d ask for her number if she wasn’t going to _use_ it, and she can’t stop thinking that maybe she’d done something wrong.

While she was in her last class the other day, she’d gotten an Instagram notification, informing her she had a new follower. Usually, she doesn’t think anything of it, and at first, she thought it was a Lauren fan account because of the icon, and she would’ve had to soft-block it, because she’s cleared any evidence of Lauren from any of her personal accounts.

But she’d tapped on the account, _ssweetdispositionn,_ just out of curiosity, and requested to follow back. When her request was accepted, it finally clicked in her head that it was _Lauren_ , just a private account, because it’s full of pictures she’s never seen, selfies that had never been posted anywhere else.

 _So she really_ isn’t _going to tell me about the show,_ Camila had deduced from the account, _otherwise she’d have just followed me on her real account, laurenjauregui._

But, other than Lauren liking a couple of her pictures, she hadn’t interacted with her at all. Camila is _obviously_ disappointed, because she adores Lauren, and if she has a chance to be _friends_ , then she’s going to take it.

(Maybe even a chance to be _more_ , but she hadn’t told anyone else that Lauren was bisexual. Not even Dinah. It wouldn’t feel right spreading that kind of thing around, because she _knows_ that Lauren isn’t out.)

“Has she texted you yet?” Dinah asks her, walking into the lounge and catching Camila on her phone again. “Or are you just staring at your home screen picture which happens to be of her?”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Um, I changed it! I don’t want her to think I’m a _stalker_.”

Dinah snorts with laughter. “Even though you _are_.”

“I’m a _fan_ , actually.” Camila corrects her. “There’s a very thin line, and I like to think I don’t cross it. _She_ approached _me_ , remember.”

Almost as if on _cue_ , Camila’s phone buzzes, and she pulls her phone from her pocket and reads the words on the screen. Dinah watches her in amusement. “She texted?”

**Unknown (8:08PM): Hi, it’s Lauren. I was wondering if you wanted to walk to class with me on Wednesday. There’s a coffee shop on my way, I could grab us a couple of drinks. :)**

“She texted,” Camila announces, holding her phone out to Dinah and showing her the message. “What do I say?”

Dinah shrugs. “I think you should say _yes_ , obviously.”

“Okay, okay, is this good?” Camila asks, reading out the message as she types it. “ _Hey Lauren, I’m down for that, but I’ll get the drinks since you got them after class last week.”_

“That’s _fine_ , but add something to keep her talking,” Dinah says, “anyway, I’m going out. Want to come?”

“No, that’s okay,” Camila says, half because she’s already in her pyjamas, and half because she wants to stay here and text Lauren. “Have fun.”

“Later, Mila,” Dinah calls out as she heads out of the room, and Camila quickly edits her message and sends it before she can stress.

**Camila (8:11PM): hey lauren i’m down for that but i’ll get the drinks since you got them last week**

**Camila (8:11PM): so how’s your parents’ basement treating you?**

She hopes it’s not too weird; it _felt_ like a little in-joke between them. She waits for a text back, and she’s not disappointed; her phone buzzes almost as soon as her message was sent.

**Lauren (8:12PM): Oh, totally good. Any Saturday night plans?**

Admittedly, her only Saturday night plan is staying in to watch the newest episode of _Silverhollow_ , but she’s not going to tell Lauren that. Instead, she replies jokingly.

**Camila (8:13PM): totally going to a massive saturday night rager being the obvious party animal i am!!! definitely not lying on the couch in my pyjamas!!!**

**Lauren (8:13PM): I will admit… the latter are my evening plans. Can’t wait to snug with my Nala and watch reality TV.**

Camila almost melts at the mental image; she’d known about Nala, obviously, since Lauren is always pictured at the airport carrying her stuffed animal under her arm, but she’d never realised she actually _cuddles_ with the toy.

**Camila (8:14PM): sounds perfect**

**Lauren (8:14PM): So, Wednesday. I’ll meet you on campus by the coffee shop at 9:45? First one there buys the drinks?**

**Camila (8:15PM): alright i can do that tbh i’m glad u asked me bc once i hit week 3 of the semester i start to cut class**

**Lauren (8:15PM): I don’t think my schedule is actually that bad. I’ve had earlier mornings, and longer weeks. I can’t imagine I’ll start skipping.**

**Camila (8:16PM): the basement has a busy schedule huh?**

**Lauren (8:16PM): Oh for sure!**

Camila smiles down at her phone, loving the way it’s so easy to banter with her. She hopes this means Lauren will stick around.

**Camila (8:16PM): so what sort of TV are you watching tonight?**

**Lauren (8:17PM): I was gonna watch something trashy, like an MTV show, but then I’m also in the mood for a Game of Thrones rewatch but idk if I can stomach the gore right now.**

**Camila (8:17PM): so you’re a thrones fan?? i’ve never seen it bc i’m a literal wimp and can’t deal with all the gore but so many people recommend it**

**Lauren (8:18PM) I’d say you should watch. Just think about the fact that the gore isn’t real and it makes it a little better, but don’t let it stop you watching. It’s literally the best show on TV (seasons 1-7). Even if the writing has dropped a little bit since GRRM left after S4. S3 and 4 are peak Thrones. Mostly because of that one scene where Dany burns Astapor… that one kinda made me realise my bisexuality.**

The last part of that surprises Camila to say the least. _It’s the best show on TV right now._ Shouldn’t Lauren think the show that she’s _on_ is the best one on TV?

**Camila (8:18PM): the best show on TV?? damn you must really love it**

**Lauren (8:19PM): It’s so good! I’ve read the books too. If I’m being honest, I actually prefer the books, but it’s been like five million years since the fifth one came out and there’s still two more to come.**

_That_ part she knows; in an interview, Lauren had been asked what her favourite book was, and she’d come out with a massive list including _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and _A Song of Ice and Fire_ series.

**Camila (8:20PM): damn any other tv show recs?? i actually need something new to watch now that i’ve finished PLL**

**Lauren (8:21PM): I used to love PLL omg… last seasons were tragic though**

**Lauren (8:21PM): I definitely recommend American Horror Story, Gossip Girl, Black Mirror, and The Haunting of Hill House.**

**Camila (8:22PM): i actually wanted to watch that last one but then i heard it was so scary that it made people vomit so i decided to pass bc my roommates refused to watch it too and i can’t do that shit alone**

**Lauren (8:23PM): Well if you’re ever interested in watching it I could offer you some moral support**

_Did she just offer to watch it with me?_ Camila thinks to herself. _Did Lauren Jauregui just ask to spend more time with me? Why would she do that?_

**Camila (8:24PM): i’m totally down for that :)**

**Lauren (8:24PM): Nice! Let me know when you’re feeling brave enough.**

**Lauren (8:24PM): Anyway, I should get off my phone and finish off this last little bit of homework I have to do. It was nice talking to you, Camila. See you Wednesday!**

**Camila (8:25PM): see you wednesday lauren**

Once she sends the text, she flops back onto the couch and lets out a loud squeal of excitement. _Lauren Jauregui wants to be friends with me_. She replays the thought in her head, and if anything, it just makes her all the more ecstatic.

She’s making _friends_ with the woman who has meant everything to her for years, and that’s all she could ask for.

Lauren

She finishes all her homework off, saving the document in Word and immediately closing the program, reclining against the back of the couch and letting out a sigh of relief. She’s glad that it’s over with, and if she’s being honest, it’s nothing compared to memorising pages on pages of script.

She looks back at her phone again, wondering if she should text Camila back. It would be weird, right? She’s not so sure, but she’s still kind of in shock about the fact that Camila said _yes_ , that she’d walk to class with her on Wednesday. If she’s being honest, it wasn’t even her idea; Lucy had been the one to suggest it over FaceTime, and then told her to man up and just _do it_. After a lot of psyching herself up, Lauren had done it, and she hadn’t expected the positive outcome, mostly because she’s so used to people wanting to be friends with her _because_ she’s an actress that in her head, she pretty much sums that up to her entire worth. Deep down, she knows it’s not true, but her anxiety likes to fool her into thinking it is.

Deciding against texting Camila again, she opens up Instagram, and naturally the first post to pop up in her feed is one of Camila’s, from slightly earlier that night. She’s fully decked out in a cow onesie, with a flawless, completely glammed up blonde girl, tagged as _dinahjane97,_ stood next to her in a dress and heels. The caption reads _ready 2 go 2 da klub_ with an excessive amount of emojis, and Lauren likes it instantly before she switches to her main account and figures she’ll like some fan edits that she’s been tagged in.

She doesn’t really _look_ at the pictures, just scrolls through her tagged posts and likes them randomly; this has bitten her in the ass before, when she accidentally liked a post about ‘Laucy’ being real, and even though she’d unliked it a second later, the fans had used it as ‘proof’ that they were together but couldn’t be open about it because of some kind of PR contract. Lauren has always desperately wanted to point out to them that if there _was_ a contract, wouldn’t it be some kind of PR thing for them to _pretend they were together_ to promote the show? Surely, if they were in some kind of relationship, the network would want them to be open about it, since co-stars who are on-screen lovers _and_ in a relationship in real life always generate buzz.

But she’s never pointed that out to them, mostly because she doesn’t want to draw _more_ attention to it. If she acts like she doesn’t know it’s even a _thing_ , surely they’d die down. Or so she’d always thought, when their words _traumatised_ her.

 _“I just- I don’t get why they_ see _that,” Lauren complains, pacing back and forth in Lucy’s apartment, “I- I have a_ boyfriend _, I’m straight…”_

_Lucy raises her eyebrows. “Then why does it bother you so much?”_

_“Doesn’t it bother you?” Lauren whirls around on her, glaring, wishing she’d admit that she hates it too. “They- they’re making assumptions about me and my life and it’s not true. It’s like I’m not a real person to them, like I’m some kind of- of character that they can mould to whatever sick fantasies they have.”_

_“You think it’s sick?” Lucy asks her, and Lauren’s stomach drops in guilt when she sees the offense in her eyes. “You know you’re my friend, right? And that I wouldn’t say anything to purposely harm or offend you?”_

_Lauren frowns, but she nods in reply. “Yeah.”_

_“Alright,” Lucy says, and after a pause, like she’s trying to gather her thoughts, she says, “you’re kind of homophobic.”_

_“What?” Lauren blinks at her in shock, “how is that fucking possible? I literally_ play _a lesbian on TV, if I was homophobic then I wouldn’t want to do that.”_

 _“I saw the way you looked when they told us our characters were going to start dating. You were uncomfortable.” Lucy points out, and Lauren has to admit that she_ was _, but not because she’s_ homophobic, _because she—she doesn’t really know_ why _… “And now, with the fans shipping us… I’m not super into it either, but they’re fans, at the end of the day they can’t tell you what to do. But the fact that you’re so focused on the fact that they_ think _you’re into girls is kind of a red flag.”_

 _“I- it’s not_ that _,” Lauren pathetically replies, “it’s- I don’t want them pinning labels on me. I’ve said that I’m straight, why can’t they just respect that?”_

 _“And you literally just proved that it’s_ exactly _that.” Lucy laughs at her, but Lauren just scowls in return. “What’s so bad about people thinking you like girls? Is it a negative thing, to be into girls?”_

 _“I—obviously not,” Lauren shakes her head, the words she wants to speak trapped in her throat._ I don’t like it because I think I might actually like girls and I’m not ready to tell anyone. I feel like they’re trying to out me before I’ve even come out to myself. _“It’s just- it’s respect! That’s what I don’t like, they’re disrespecting me by not_ listening _to me. I’m not homophobic! I couldn’t care less that you’re into girls.”_

 _Almost as if Lucy can read her mind, she just sends her a comforting smile and says, “I never said the homophobia was_ towards others _. But when you’re ready to talk… you know where to find me.”_

It had taken her a few months; season one of _Silverhollow_ had wrapped up and the fans were shipping them more and more every day. The thing that _finally_ made her open up happened at Comic-Con, when what seemed like _endless_ streams of fans had thanked them both for all the help they’d given through their representation, how they’d helped all of these people find comfort in themselves and accept their sexualities. After their panel, Lauren gone to Lucy’s hotel room, shut the door behind her and just _blurted_ it out.

_“I think I might be bisexual.”_

_Lucy immediately pulls her in for a hug, and Lauren practically melts into the embrace, glad that the first time she told_ anyone _, she was able to feel so accepted. “Thank you for telling me.”_

_“I’m not all figured out,” Lauren murmurs into Lucy’s shoulder, “I don’t know if I ever will be and- and I’m not ready for everyone to know and I don’t think- I don’t think I ever want to tell anyone.”_

She’s definitely all figured out by this point, and she’s told the people that mean something to her, like her family and her friends in the cast (and Camila – _stupid move_ ) but she doesn’t know how she feels about coming out to the general public. Lucy did it way back when season one was still airing, but she’s still secretive about some things.

(Mostly the fact that she _is_ dating one of her co-stars, just not the one everyone _thinks_ she’s dating.)

Lucy had been with Vero since season one was still being filmed, and Lauren is pretty sure they’re going to end up just _eloping_ one of these days, because she’s never seen two people so in love before, minus her parents. She guesses that’s _one_ good thing that came from all of the Laucy bullshit; nobody suspects a thing between Lucy and Vero, so she’d won them a few years of privacy.

She sighs, locking her phone, and looking around her empty apartment, wishing she had someone to talk to. She _hates_ living alone, and she’s seriously considering getting some kind of pet to make herself feel less lonely, even if it _is_ just a goldfish or a hamster.

She grabs the TV remote and turns it on, flicking through the channels and trying to find something to entertain herself. As she’s channel surfing, she flips onto the network which airs _Silverhollow_ , and naturally it’s the start of the new episode. She immediately changes channels; she’s never seen an episode, and frankly she doesn’t _want_ to. She knows that watching herself would make her uncomfortable from interviews where she’d had to react to season one scenes and comment on them.

(Interviews like that had made it pretty obvious that Lauren doesn’t watch the show; there are complication videos she’s seen around Twitter and Instagram titled _Lauren Jauregui has no idea what’s happening on Silverhollow_ and it’s sort of become a fandom joke.)

If she’s being _completely_ honest, she only reads her own parts of the script, so she genuinely _doesn’t_ know anything about the other characters, but it’s not like people ever ask her about the other characters anyway.

Thinking _fuck it_ , she texts Camila again, using kind of a shitty, pathetic excuse to do it, and she already knows what Camila’s response will be, but she just wants to start another conversation.

**Lauren (9:06PM): Hey, I realise that you’ve probably not done it, but if you have, do you know what question 12 on the seminar prep is all about? I’m reading the question and I legit don’t know what it’s even asking me.**

(She makes sure to double check the questions and look for a longer, more complicated one, so she doesn’t look like an idiot.)

**Camila (9:08PM): lmao i most definitely have not done it so tbh it’s nbd if you miss it bc the professor probably won’t even notice**

**Camila (9:08PM): but if you want i can run and get my laptop and have a look for you??**

**Lauren (9:09PM): No worries, I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually. Thanks anyway! :)**

She doesn’t expect Camila to respond, but when her phone dings again, she easily ignores the way her heart flutters and happiness bubbles at the pit of her stomach.

**Camila (9:10PM): anyway i see u liked my outfit that i put on especially to go to the club!! you don’t know how long it took me to get ready like i was there for HOURS**

**Lauren (9:10PM): I can definitely tell! Never seen anyone so glamourous in my whole life**

**Camila (9:10PM): why thank u lern i appreciate the compliment**

**Lauren (9:11PM): I mean it’s just honesty I’ve never seen anyone rock a cow onesie like that**

**Camila (9:11PM): yeah it’s my alter ego camoola**

**Camila (9:12PM): my friend mani likes to call me camilk2% but like i prefer to think of that as my rap name whereas camoola is like… a look into my soul**

Lauren laughs aloud at the messages, and she really, _really_ hopes this means they’re friends, because that’s all she’s wanted. A friend who treats her like she’s just a normal person, not some _actress_ to idolise.

(Because _honestly_ , idolisation is the biggest form of dehumanisation.)

She ignores the way her stomach flips at the messages, ignores the way she’s so engaged with Camila’s texts, ignores the way they make her _feel_. Because she _just_ wants a friend. That’s all.


	5. Chapter 5

Camila

“Nice timekeeping.”

Camila sends the older girl a proud grin, holding out the latte for her as she sips on her own hot chocolate. “Good morning to you too.”

“Thank you for the latte,” Lauren smiles, taking a sip, eyebrows raising in surprise. “ _Caramel_ latte. Should I be worried that I have a stalker? Because that’s my usual coffee order.”

Camila had known that from an interview; it’s one of her favourite interviews Lauren has ever done, because it was after all the insistent ‘ _I’m straight_ and _my boyfriend_ _and I’_ interviews that would always break her heart just a little. Plus, it was a BuzzFeed puppy interview, and seeing Lauren playing with puppies is the cutest thing in the world.

“That’s what you got last time, I vaguely remembered glancing it on the receipt,” Camila shrugs nonchalantly, “once I ordered it I was a little anxious that it was actually a _vanilla_ latte that you’d had, _or_ maybe you’d just been trying something new, but…”

“Not to worry, I always get the same thing,” Lauren laughs, “although this tastes like a _single_ shot of caramel and I usually get a double.”

Camila had known that too, but she felt like it would’ve been a little _too_ accurate for it to be brushed off as her just remembering what was on their receipt. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Come on, we should head to the lecture hall, I like to get sat at the back and usually the back row fills up fast.”

Lauren frowns. “Why specifically the back?”

“So the professor can’t walk behind me and see that I’m actually browsing Twitter and _not_ writing my lecture notes,” Camila quips, and Lauren snickers in amusement. “I don’t get how you managed to pull yourself away from the obvious entertainments of your parents’ basement when watching the online lectures. If the risk of the professor yelling at me isn’t there, I don’t think I’d pay _any_ attention.”

Lauren snorts. “Oh, the basement was where I was _locked_ until all my work was complete. Obviously.”

Camila smiles, studying the face of the woman she’s idolised since she was _seventeen_ , still a little shocked that she’s even talking to her. “Anyway, have you done the seminar prep?”

Lauren hums. “Admittedly not _all_ of it, but I intend to finish it in my break after class, which I’m pretty sure is more than you’ve done.”

Camila is surprised by the sass, but she has to agree that she doesn’t even have the intent to do it. “You’re not wrong. But you totally don’t have to let me copy yours again.”

“I will if you need to,” Lauren sends her a soft smile, “anyway, do you have any other classes today? You know, except for the seminar.”

“Yeah, I have this other music one right after our lecture, but I’ve got an hour and a half for lunch before our other class later,” Camila says, wondering why she’s asking, “Today isn’t actually a bad day.”

Lauren looks like she’s debating something in her head, but before Camila can ask what’s up, she blurts out, “do you want to meet for lunch? I mean, no pressure if you already have plans, but…”

The way she asks it is so foreign to Camila; she’s used to seeing Lauren on the show, where she’s so cocky and confident that it’s weird to see her anxious. _Vanessa_ would walk up, _tell_ her that they were going out, and that would be that.

 _Except she’s not her character_ , Camila reminds herself, before she nods quickly. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Nice,” Lauren smiles, taking another sip of her drink before she pulls open the door to their building, holding it for Camila. “I’ll meet you here at one?”

“Yeah,” Camila smiles, “meet you at one. _God_ , I can’t believe I won’t be eating again until _one_. Can we get burgers?”

“Whatever you want,” Lauren replies, starting up the stairs to the doors of the lecture theatre. “I’m cool with anything.”

“So, has your college experience started to improve since last week?” Camila asks. “Been to any hardcore parties?”

Lauren barks out a laugh. “No, but I don’t even think I _want_ to. I mean, I’m not opposed to a great party, but… I don’t know, it’s just the fact that I don’t really know anyone, so going to a party alone… seems kind of sad.”

Camila’s stomach drops, because it’s the first time she really sees the sadness and loneliness in her eyes. But then Lauren puts on a smile, and Camila is reminded by how good of an actress she is.

“Well, hey, you know me,” Camila tries to console her, “I’m definitely not a party animal though. Since freshman year I’ve been to two whole parties. Both because I was dragged kicking and screaming to them. But I’d go to one with you, if you wanted.”

Lauren looks at her for a moment, like she’s totally surprised by the offer, and she sends her a soft smile, one that actually looks _real_. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t know. I think I’m just going to focus on my work, and since you don’t like parties anyway, I wouldn’t want to drag you into it.”

Camila bites down on her bottom lip, but nods. “Alright. But the offer is always there, you know.”

“Thanks, Camila.” Lauren replies, and as they make their way into the lecture hall, she continues after a few moments of thought. “You’re kind of the best person I’ve met in years.”

 _Oh my god oh my god oh my god,_ her brain goes haywire, and she almost wants to jump up and do some kind of happy dance, but she _somehow_ manages to restrain herself. She beams, probably looking _way_ too happy, and says, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

Lauren sends her that smile again; the _real_ one, the goofy, lopsided grin that makes Camila’s heart flutter, and it’s all she can think about for the rest of class.

Lauren

She stares at the clock, waiting for it to just be one o’clock. _One_ means she gets to go for lunch with Camila, and there’s so much excitement at the pit of her stomach when she thinks about it.

(She doesn’t dwell on the fact that this is how she felt when that girl said she liked her dress in kindergarten, when Luis asked her to homecoming and gave her a rose, or when Brad, lead singer of The Vamps had approached her at the Teen Choice Awards.)

But there’s still ten minutes of this stupid class left, which means ten minutes of being stared at like she has two heads by the girl sat next to her, who is conveniently wearing a _Silverhollow_ t-shirt.

It’s probably the most agonising ten minutes of her life, but she _somehow_ gets through it without screaming. Even when the girl purposely snaps the pencil she was using and says, “Vanessa, can I borrow a pencil?”

Lauren had blatantly ignored her for that one, and she _knows_ it’s bitchy and immature, but if anyone accused her of that, she could easily remind them that her name is _Lauren_ , and that she’s _not_ her fucking _character._

If she’s being honest, she doesn’t entirely understand the hype around her character, and pretty much just chalks the whole thing up to the _ship_ , because Vanessa is kind of a jerk to everyone except Lucy’s character Emilia. Not exactly the nicest kind of person, _or_ the kind of character you’re supposed to root for.

Sometimes, she thinks she _should’ve_ fought to be killed off. She knows that the episode isn’t airing for a while, since the show hit its midseason finale last week. Six episodes aired, then there’s a break for a month in case the remaining episodes need any extra work, then the other six episodes will air, starting from some point in October. She reminds herself that she should mentally prepare for the inevitable backlash she’ll get for leaving the show.

 _You did it for yourself. You couldn’t take it any longer,_ she reminds herself, _you would’ve gone crazy if you’d stayed._

But sometimes, she feels like she’s going crazy here. With the amount of stares and non-consensual picture taking, she’s surprised she hasn’t snapped at someone yet. She’s _also_ lucky that none of it has happened around Camila, or at least nothing she’s noticed. She likes that Camila doesn’t know; it’s the first time she’s felt like _herself_ around someone in forever. With Camila, she’s not _Lauren Jauregui, television actress_ , she’s just _Lauren._

When the class is finally dismissed, Lauren throws all of her things into her backpack, swings it over her shoulder, and escapes the classroom before anyone can ask her for anything. That’s another thing she likes about Camila; she doesn’t _want_ anything from Lauren except her company. There’s no _can we take a selfie, can you sign this for me, can you get me a part on the show?_ It’s just _refreshing_.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she wonders if it’s Camila. It’s not, but she’s still pleased to see the text from Lucy.

**Lucy (12:57PM): totally free this weekend if u want me to come up there still**

She’d called Lucy after her first week, basically crying to her best friend about how it sucked, it wasn’t at all what she wanted, nobody actually wanted to be friends with her, and how she didn’t know what she had to do to be happy. She knows it was kind of dramatic, but it had felt like the end of the world. Lucy had promised to come and see her as soon as she could, and while the text isn’t as much of a relief as it would’ve been if she _hadn’t_ met Camila, it’s still nice to see.

**Lauren (12:58PM): I would love that. I’ll text you my address later. Missed you.**

“Hey.”

Lauren jumps at the voice, but relaxes entirely when she meets Camila’s gaze. “Hi. You wanted burgers?”

“It’s cute that you remembered that,” Camila comments, and Lauren pushes down the little flutter in her tummy, “there’s a McDonald’s nearby, unless you want to splurge for Five Guys.”

“I don’t mind,” Lauren assures her, because really she’s just happy that Camila said yes to getting lunch with her. “It’s your choice.”

“We’ll go to McDonald’s, live the broke student life,” Camila jokes, and as she sets off walking, Lauren quickly matches her pace. Their hands swing next to each other, and Lauren wishes they were closer, wishes she’d have the confidence to take it, but she doesn’t try anything. It would be weird if she did. “How were your last couple of classes?”

“I only had one, and it kind of sucked. To be honest, American literature is my favourite out of all of them,” Lauren says, _and not because of the class content, but because you’re in that class._ “Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice when it comes to in-person schooling.”

Camila grins. “Miss the basement too much?”

“Oh, yeah, it had every kind of comfort,” Lauren jokes with her, that stupid flutter in her tummy happening again. “Anyway, what about you? What made you want to come to college?”

“I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. The only thing I’ve ever considered myself _good_ at is singing and songwriting, so…” Camila shrugs, “but my parents moved us to this country for me to get a good education and a chance for a better future, and I felt like saying _hey, I don’t want to go to college, I want to try and be a musician_ was kind of walking all over their sacrifices. So, I’m here studying music and literature as a compromise of sorts. Then once I graduate, I’ll at least have a proper degree, so if I _didn’t_ make it as a musician, I could teach music. Pass the gift on.”

“That’s… that’s really cool,” Lauren comments, and if there’s ever been anyone she wanted to _help_ , it’s Camila. She has a few connections in the music industry, as well as the fact that the show often uses songs as background music. But Camila doesn’t know about any of that, and Lauren doesn’t know how to _tell_ her. “I have total belief in you. I know I’ve never heard you play properly, but even when you were just playing around that day we met, you were so talented. So… yeah. I believe you’ll make it.”

“You’re so sweet,” Camila flashes her a smile, “so, what about you? Why’d you decide to get a college education?”

“It’s just always been something I knew I’d do,” Lauren shrugs, “like, even when I was little. I was that loser who was always top of the class, so it was kind of expected of me. But when I was supposed to start college properly three years ago, life was… _busy_ to say the least, but I didn’t want to _not_ get a college education. So I started taking online classes, and I did that for freshman, sophomore and junior year, but now that everything has kind of slowed down, I figured I’d come and do it for real.”

“And then you realised it _sucks_.” Camila finishes for her, and Lauren almost admits that _yeah_ , that had been her thought process in her first week. “Sorry you’re stuck here.”

“It’s not all bad. Definitely not what I thought it would be,” _because I haven’t magically become anonymous,_ “but I’ve met someone who has made the experience better.”

Camila grins, and Lauren’s whole heart feels full to bursting. “Oh yeah? They must be wonderful, you’ll have to introduce me.”

“Trust me, she’s very wonderful,” Lauren blurts out without thinking, and she’s fully aware of the blush on her cheeks as she looks away under the guise of looking for the big golden M that they’re heading for. “So, where’s this McDonald’s?”

“Just up here,” Camila replies, but she’s _looking_ at her differently, and everything in Lauren is hyperaware but not in the good kind of way. _She’ll think you’re a fucking creeper_ , she chastises herself, _you’re such a fucking idiot, of course you’d find the one person who doesn’t treat you differently and then you’d end up freaking her out._

She pushes the anxiety down, trying to tell herself not to stress. The whole point of leaving L.A. and coming to college was to get rid of her anxiety, which had gotten worse over the last few years. In fact, there’s a direct correlation between Lauren’s anxiety and the popularity of the show.

“How about we make today a weekly thing?”

Lauren is too busy over-analysing her actions that the words don’t fully sink in. “What?”

“Like, meeting to walk to class in the morning, then meeting for lunch and walking to our other class,” Camila explains, and Lauren _swears_ that there’s a little pink tint to her cheeks. “I mean, it’d stop me from skipping, because like I said, once we get a few weeks into the semester, I start to get lazy.”

 _And it would stop me from being as lonely_ , Lauren thinks, and trying not to look too eager, she says, “yeah, I’d love that.”

“Cool,” Camila smiles, “we’ll meet at the coffee shop, and whoever gets there first buys. So I’ll be memorising your order. Double shot of caramel, right?”

“Exactly,” Lauren confirms, “but you won’t need to memorise it, I’m known for my excellent time keeping skills.”

“We’ll see about that one,” Camila teases her, and when they get to the McDonalds, she holds open the door for her, “after you.”

Lauren smiles, and heads over to one of the self-service kiosks, “we’re eating in, right?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods, before she laughs to herself and adds, “I almost made a totally inappropriate joke there about eating out, but I think I’ve levelled up in emotional maturity because I held it back.”

Lauren chuckles lightly, selecting a quarter pounder meal for herself, and then looking to Camila. “What do you want?”

“Big Mac, the only _correct_ choice for a burger.” Camila jokes, adding that to their order, as well as a McFlurry for dessert. “Not getting any ice cream?”

“Haven’t joined a gym down here yet, so maybe not today.” Lauren replies, completing their order and paying on her card before Camila can protest. Justifying herself, she sends Camila a sheepish smile and adds, “you got the drinks this morning.”

“Alright, fine, new deal,” Camila decides, “whoever gets the drinks on the morning, the other one gets the lunch.”

“Sure, seems fair,” Lauren smiles at her, grabbing their receipt and checking the order number. It doesn’t take long for their order to be ready, and she grabs the tray and carries it over to the nearest booth.

Camila slides into the opposite side, grabbing her fries and starting on them before Lauren can even blink. She sends her a sheepish smile, saying, “what? I’m hungry.”

Lauren just laughs, and grabs her own burger and fries, taking a couple of sips from her water before starting on it. It’s nice, just getting lunch with a friend, and for a while, Lauren forgets about everything, forgets about the show. She’s just a regular college student.

But then she notices the way a girl to their left is angling her phone at them, and her stomach drops. And then the girl gets up, and starts in their direction, and she _knows_ she’s going to ask for a picture, and then Camila will _know_.

She jolts to a start, awkwardly excusing herself to the bathroom, and Camila just looks up, smiles, and makes some joke about how she should, “be quick, because I might steal some of your fries.”

She locks herself in a stall and runs a hand through her hair. She feels like fucking _crying_. She knows she’s being stupid, that she should be grateful for what she has, but sometimes she wishes her life was _hers_. She wishes she could flip a _please don’t talk to me_ switch, and the fans would leave her alone for a little while.

She feels like such an asshole for it, but she almost _resents_ them. It was the fans that pinned labels on her and made her exploring her sexuality an _emotional trauma_ rather than a natural thing. It was the fans who harassed her for years, trying to force her to date her best friend just because they played lovers on a TV show. It was the fans who always fucking _want_ something from her, the fans that invaded the privacy, the fans that were the first to crucify her if she did one single thing _wrong_.

It reminds her of a few months ago, when someone with _Jauregui_ in their fucking _username_ had posted a picture, comparing how she looked from season one versus the season three promo shots, commenting on her body, saying that she’d put on too much weight. She’d constantly worried about the way she looked for a _month_ until Lucy had shown her the tweets about her, how people said she was too thin, and how neither of them should worry, because as long as they were happy and healthy, they were fine.

And then Lauren had blurted out about how she’d not been happy for a long time, and finally broke it to Lucy that she was going to leave the show. But leaving hadn’t fixed _anything_. Maybe it would with time, but she’s still unhappy, just without her creative outlet.

She finally leaves the bathroom stall, walking up to the sinks and splashing a little water on her face to cool herself down. _Camila is going to find out,_ she tells herself, _but she’s different, maybe she won’t treat you weirdly just because you’re ‘famous’._ She tries to calm herself down, to accept the inevitability, but then the bathroom door opens and the girl walks in, sending her a shy smile.

“I- uh, I don’t mean to intrude, but is it okay if I can get a picture?” The girl asks. “I’m a really big fan of the show, and I know you won’t get it because you’re straight, but you and Lucy really helped me accept myself.”

 _Because you’re straight_ , Lauren almost snorts in amusement, but manages to reign it in. “You want a picture in a McDonald’s bathroom?”

“I- if it’s okay,” the girl squeaks out, “I’m a really big fan.”

Putting on her fake, _always happy to meet fans_ kind of smile, she nods. “Alright.”

She takes a selfie with the girl, hoping she doesn’t look too dead behind the eyes, and when she thanks her and leaves, Lauren waits a few moments before heading out to join Camila. She feels like jumping for joy when she realises she’d gotten out of living through that fan encounter in front of Camila, which means Camila still doesn’t know.

As she takes her seat across from her again, Camila looks at her with a little confusion, and Lauren almost asks her what’s up, until Camila questions _her_ , “Are you okay? You look a little upset.”

“Yeah. I’m alright,” Lauren assures her, “just deep in thought.”

Camila sends her a reassuring smile, obviously not believing her in the slightest. “Whatever it is, I hope it blows over.”

 _I hope it does too_ , Lauren thinks to herself, _but it’s impossible to disappear._


	6. Chapter 6

Lauren

“So, how is everything?”

One look at Lucy, and everything comes pouring out. It’s always been too easy to talk to her. Lauren takes a drag of her cigarette, the smoke blowing out as she sighs. “It pretty much sucks. I’m not any happier. I’m less stressed, but… that’ll change when it comes to exam period. I guess I just don’t know… if I made the right choice. I wanted to drop off the face of the fucking earth but it feels like I’ve just been thrown into a fucking vat of fans and I can’t get out.”

Lucy squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry it’s not what you wanted it to be. But… there has to be something good, right? A silver lining?”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, not sure what to say. There _is_ a silver lining, but even _that_ is surrounded by uncertainty and doubt. “I mean… I’ve made a friend.”

“That’s good,” Lucy smiles, watching as Lauren taps the ash from the end of her cigarette, “and she makes it a little easier?”

“Yeah, she does,” Lauren agrees, taking another drag, “but there’s a little… complication. She doesn’t know about the show, or that I’m an actress, and I’m worried that if she found out, she’d treat me differently. I like just being _Lauren_ to her. Spending time with her… it’s like I’m just _normal_ , and that’s all I’ve wanted. She’s just so funny and sweet and beautiful and-”

“And you’re totally crushing on her,” Lucy finishes for her, and when Lauren goes to deny it, she fixes her with a stern look. “Don’t try to deny it. But I’m glad you’ve got something good out of this.”

“Ugh, you’re right, I _am_ crushing on her,” Lauren sighs, flopping back onto the couch with an exasperated groan, “I’m such an idiot, crushing on the only friend I’ve made here.”

Lucy shrugs. “You’re not an idiot. Unless she’s straight.”

“No, no, she joked about being gay when we met, and,” Lauren pauses to blow out smoke, “and I kind of told her I’m bisexual. She’s the first person outside my family I’ve ever told.”

Lucy coughs loudly, “Excuse you…”

“You know you’re like family to me too, shut up,” Lauren shoves her lightly, “I don’t know. You’re right, though. I really like her. I don’t know, I’m not good with women, they’re too pretty and it’s scary.”

Lucy snorts with laughter. “That’s a mood. But you’re an actress, right? So _act_ like you _are_ good with women, turn on the charm, and get yourself a girlfriend. But, you know, tell her about the show first.”

Lauren cringes, exhaling smoke. “I can’t tell her about that.”

“She deserves honesty,” Lucy tells her, and Lauren _knows_ that, but that doesn’t make her any less reluctant. “Lo, I mean it. Tell her.”

“But I don’t _wanna_ ,” Lauren pouts, and she knows she sounds like a petulant child, but is it so bad to _enjoy_ being treated normally for once? “You tell her.”

Lucy holds her phone out. “Give me her number and I will.”

Lauren doesn’t move an inch, because she has no intention of doing that. “Look, it’s not even like I’m keeping anything from her. The information is out there. I’ve never _lied_. I’ve just not _mentioned_ it. If a fan came over to me while I was with her, then she’d know, and it’s not like I would say _oh, she’s just a long lost friend who wanted to take a picture.”_

(She doesn’t tell Lucy about how she’d literally _hid_ in the bathroom at McDonalds to stop that from happening.)

Lucy just sighs. “I still think you should tell her, but that’s your choice. As long as you’re not actively lying to her, then I guess it’s not so bad. Now come here, let’s give the fans some Laucy content.”

Lauren pouts, stamping out her cigarette in the ashtray on her coffee table. “Don’t film me, I look like trash.”

“You know you could never,” Lucy rolls her eyes, and as she gets ready to go live on Instagram, Lauren sits up, trying to force any residual upset and worry from her face.

Camila

When she gets the notification that _lucyvives is now live,_ she taps on it out of curiosity, and it’s like an automatic reflex; she smiles when she sees that Lauren is with her.

“Hey losers,” Lucy greets them, “I’m with Lo, ask us some questions and we might answer them. Depends on what you ask.”

“Aha, here’s a classic,” Lucy sarcastically announces, “ _are you guys dating?_ For the millionth time, no, but you’ll be the _first_ we inform if we ever suddenly confess our undying love for one another.”

Lauren snorts with laughter, but Camila can see the sadness behind her eyes. “Please ask more original questions.”

Going out of the live, she messages Lauren, asking if she’s alright, how her night is going, and when she goes back onto the live stream, her heart flutters when she sees the way Lauren is smiling down at her phone as she types out a response.

Feeling like a total creeper, she leaves the live entirely, and switches from her old fan account to her personal Instagram. Lauren had posted a picture with Lucy on her private account, a selfie clouded with obvious cigarette smoke. Everyone in the fandom knows that Lauren smokes; she’s not exactly subtle about it, but Camila hadn’t actually seen her smoking at all. Not in real life, anyway.

Camila likes the picture, commenting a couple of heart-eyes emojis, and the older girl almost immediately likes her comment. This kind of interaction would have had her running around the house _screaming_ not two months ago, but now it just makes her heart warm.

She thought she’d loved Lauren _before_ , when she was this unattainable idol, but the real Lauren is different to the always-happy person she sees in interviews. Lauren is such a thoughtful and beautiful person, and seeing the other sides to her has made Camila like her even more, but not in the whole _I’ve idolised you for years_ way.

**Lauren (8:24PM): Hi! I’m alright actually, just hanging out with my friend who came through here to visit me. How is your weekend going?**

**Camila (8:25PM): boring as usual, my roommates are out at some party later and they’re all rushing around to get ready, but we’re planning on a girls’ night tomorrow**

**Camila (8:25PM): was actually messaging to see if you were busy in case you wanted to come over and hang out but maybe next weekend :)**

**Lauren (8:26PM): You’re totally welcome to come over here if you want! Lucy’s nice, I promise.**

Camia imagines her reaction from _before_ she befriended Lauren. Being invited to hang out with Lauren Jauregui and Lucy Vives would have basically made her spontaneously combust. It still makes her want to let out that stereotypical fangirl squeal, but she reigns it in and texts back.

**Camila (8:28PM): id love to as long as your friend is okay with me being there**

**Lauren (8:29PM): Don’t worry, I asked her and she said she’d love to meet you. Can I tell her you’re coming?**

**Camila (8:29PM): text me your address and i’ll set off now**

Once she gets Lauren’s address, she quickly orders an Uber to the location, grabs a jacket and her keys, and makes her way there. She’s grateful that her driver doesn’t bother to make conversation with her, because there’s nothing she hates more than awkward smalltalk with strangers, and when she pulls up outside Lauren’s apartment block, the older girl is waiting outside for her.

“Hi,” Lauren flashes her a smile, “I thought I’d come down to meet you in case you couldn’t find the apartment number or something.”

She smiles in greeting, and before she can stress about anything, she pulls Lauren in for a hug. The older girl smells like cigarette smoke and lavender, and underneath all that she can smell the coconut from her shampoo. “Hey. What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Mostly just getting tipsy,” Lauren laughs, and when they pull apart, she holds open the door to her apartment building for her. “I’m glad you decided to come over.”

“Of course,” Camila smiles, following her through towards the elevator. Lauren pushes the button to call it. “Anyway, how do you know Lucy?”

Lauren seems to contemplate her answer, and Camila knows why, because Lauren and Lucy met on the _Silverhollow_ set. “Work.”

“Oh, nice,” Camila smiles, “have you known each other for long?”

“Three years,” Lauren says, stepping into the elevator once it dings, “I met her when I was seventeen. What about you, with your roommates? You mentioned they were going out tonight, so I hope it’s alright I’m asking.”

“Oh, yeah. I met Dinah in freshman year. She was my roommate after my _first_ roommate dropped out. I met Normani through Dinah; I’m pretty sure they met in a club after drunk arguing about which one of them was the biggest Beyoncé fan,” Camila snorts with laughter at the mental image, “and I met Ally in the first week freshman year when I was _completely_ lost and she was nice enough to give me directions. She’s a postgraduate now, she’s doing a master’s degree in business. I think she wants to move to L.A and open a bakery.”

“That’s cute,” Lauren comments, “have you lived with them since freshman year?”

“No, I was in dorms for freshman year, and sophomore year we all decided we wanted to get a student house and live together, so that’s where we’ve been since,” Camila explains, “not sure what I’m going to do for senior year, because Ally’s studying abroad for her master’s and Normani graduates this year… but anyway, what about you? Any roommates?”

Lauren just smiles once the elevator dings and opens up on her floor, but there’s a little element of sadness behind it that makes her heart hurt. “No, no roommates. It’s just me.”

She gets her keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door, letting Camila into her apartment first, and all Camila can think is that it’s _definitely_ not a student apartment. It’s not like it’s a _rich person_ apartment, but it’s definitely much too nice for a student. Instead of it being a shoebox, the lounge and kitchenette is spacious and clean, a pair of glass double doors open to a small balcony, and while the two doors parallel to the double doors is closed, she knows it’s a bedroom and bathroom, because they’re the only other doors she can see.

She trains her gaze onto the black leather couch, and she smiles at the _other_ girl who she’s only ever seen on TV. Lucy Vives. If it's possible, she's even prettier in person, which makes Camila feel even more intimidated than she already did.

“Hi,” Lucy smiles at her, and Camila realises she must not be live anymore. “I’m Lucy, it’s nice to meet you. I’m so glad that Lo has a good friend here.”

Camila’s stomach flips, because _Lauren thinks she’s a good friend._ “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Anyway, Camila, would you like a glass of wine?” Lauren offers, nodding to the already half empty bottle on the kitchen counter. “Or I could make you a cocktail, I have some tequila around here…”

“No, thank you,” Camila smiles, and Lauren just shrugs, grabbing her half-empty glass and draining it in one. “You’re planning on getting drunk?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Lauren replies, and then she picks up the cigarette carton and offers it to her. “Cigarette?”

Camila pulls the disgusted face before she can think about it. “Ew. That’s gross. No thanks.”

Lauren pouts, and Camila feels like she’s just kicked a puppy. “You think I’m gross?”

“Are you a smoker?” Camila asks, mostly rhetorically, because she knows that Lauren is. “Because if it’s a yes, then yeah, you’re gross.”

One look into Lauren’s big green eyes and Camila almost grabs the whole pack and smokes them all at once. “But… but I’m _not_ a _smoker_. I just smoke sometimes. Like when I’m drunk or stressed. _Please_ don’t call me gross!”

Lauren sends her another one of those pouts, and coupled with the puppy dog eyes, Camila caves. “Alright, alright, you’re not gross, you can get away with it.”

(She doesn’t admit that the smoking videos Lauren has posted on Instagram _are_ kind of hot.)

Lauren beams at her, and pulls her in for another hug. “Tanks, Camz.”

 _God_ , Camila thinks she might fucking _melt_ if Lauren calls her _Camz_ again. “It’s okay. Go fill up your wine glass.”

“I _will,_ ” Lauren pats her on the back one more time before she pulls away and whirls around, grabbing the bottle of wine from the kitchen counter and pouring herself another glass out. “ _So_ , why didn’t you go to the party with your friends? I know you said you weren’t into parties but if you’re with people you trust…”

“Actually, I’ll have a glass of wine too,” Camila says, just as Lauren screws the cap back onto the bottle. Lauren rolls her eyes, but pours her out a glass, passing it over. “Thanks. And it’s literally just because I hate like, super crowded places. Little parties are fine, with a few close friends.”

Lauren smiles, sinking back down onto the couch next to Lucy, and Camila makes sure she’s in next to her. “That’s cute. To be honest, I agree with you. Smaller parties with friends are so much more fun than massive parties with strangers.”

 _Wouldn’t have guessed,_ Camila thinks. For the last few months before she’d shown up here, Lauren had constantly been pictured going to parties. A few fans had said she was out of control and going off the rails, the inevitable young actor meltdown, but Camila had always stuck by her.

Not that it matters now. Trivial defences through an old Twitter account are nothing compared to the fact that she’s _hanging out_ _with Lauren Jauregui and Lucy Vives._

She sips on her wine as Lucy connects her phone to Lauren’s speakers, but she’s not expecting the volume, and she jumps when a Lana Del Rey song plays loudly. Lauren notices, because _of course_ , and she laughs, but it’s not a mean laugh. More a _you’re cute_ kind of laugh, and it makes Camila’s heart flutter.

“I can turn it down if it’s too loud,” Lucy tells her, but Camila shakes her head; it was just the initial shock. She drains her wine glass, and promises herself not to have any more; she doesn’t want to open her big mouth while drunk and tell Lauren she’s a fan.

Lauren doesn’t seem to have the same concern. She takes a big gulp of her own drink, and her green eyes are already a little cloudy. “How is your music stuff?”

“It’s fine. I’ve written a couple of songs but nothing to do with my actual _degree_ ,” Camila laughs to herself, “maybe one day I’ll write something for school.”

“You do music?” Lucy asks her, and Camila nods in confirmations. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Guitar. And I’m learning piano, slowly but surely,” Camila shrugs, “and I sing, but that’s not really an instrument…”

“She’s really good,” Lauren compliments her, taking another sip of her wine, “when we met, she was playing her guitar, and I was sort of hypnotised by it.”

“I was just surprised to see someone else using that room,” Camila comments, “usually it’s deserted.”

“Yeah, I went there because people in the library were-” Lauren starts, stops, then rewords her sentence, “there were barely any seats, and the seats that _were_ free had people’s stuff on them.”

Lucy sends her a stern kind of look, and Lauren blanks her completely, turning to Camila with a small smile. The younger girl wonders what it means, but figures Lauren has told Lucy that she’s not being 100% honest with Camila _. Like Camila can judge, though._

“Either way, I’m glad you did, because otherwise we wouldn’t have met,” Camila flashes her a smile, and Lauren returns it, “and that’d suck.”

“Yeah, it would,” Lauren agrees with her, finishing off her wine and getting up to fill her glass up again.

As she walks across to the kitchen, Camila looks at Lucy. “So, are you in college too?”

She knows the answer to the question. She knows a decent amount about Lucy; even though Lauren was always her favourite, she knows a lot about both of them and their characters. She’d also always shipped them, but she tried to keep it low-key after hearing how much Lauren hated it.

“No, I’m working,” Lucy says, and Camila catches Lauren’s glare from the corner of her eye. _She doesn’t want her to tell me about the show._ “Almost went to college, though. Was going to take classes at Loyola, but other things came up.”

She wants to ask the question so badly. _Oh, what do you do?_ Just to see what Lauren would say, or how she would react, because by this point, it’s so obvious that Lauren desperately doesn’t want her to know.

“Well, as long as you’re happy with the decision you made, it’s cool, right?” Camila says. “I always feel like if you don’t want to go to college, you get completely judged. That’s part of the reason why I’m here.”

Lucy frowns. “Fear of judgement?”

“Yeah, but mostly just judgement from my dad,” Camila admits, “I can almost hear him saying _we didn’t move all the way from Cuba for you to skip college, mija._ ”

“I’m Cuban,” Lauren pipes up from the kitchen, a little misty eyed as she drinks her wine. She’s looking at them with something that could almost be described as _jealousy_ , and Camila wonders if the reason why she hates _Laucy_ so much is because she likes Lucy and it’s unrequited.

“I know, you told me,” Camila smiles at her, wondering if she’s drunk already. As Lauren walks over, she’s steady on her feet, but her cheeks are flushed and she looks tired. “Tell me something I _don’t_ know about you.”

Lauren sits down on the couch, wedging herself between Lucy and Camila, and it pretty much confirms Camila’s jealousy theory, but in the completely wrong way. “Um… I’m afraid of heights.”

She’d known that; Lauren had mentioned her biggest fears in an interview about two years ago. In a way, she almost wishes she _didn’t_ know, because she knows that’s what Lauren likes about her. The fact that she ‘doesn’t know’ about _Silverhollow_. Even though she knows more than most people do about that show.

“Yeah?” Camila says, “What else are you afraid of?”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, considering her answer. “Isolation. Loneliness.”

At the words, Lucy takes Lauren’s hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. For a moment, the two of them just _look_ at each other, silently communicating, before Lauren sighs and finishes another glass of wine. Grabbing her cigarettes, she pulls one out and puts it between her lips, flicking on her lighter, but when Camila scoots away, she pauses before she puts the lighter down and places the cigarette back into its carton.

“You can smoke if you want.” Camila says, “It’s your apartment.”

“I won’t do it because you think it’s gross, and I don’t want to gross you out,” Lauren announces, pushing the empty wine glass away from her. The bottle left on the kitchen counter is empty, and there’s another one near to it, but Lauren taps the glass and adds, “I don’t want any more of that. Tell us a story.”

For a second, she doesn’t get how those two sentences are connected. But then she just smiles. “A story about me?”

“Yeah,” Lauren confirms, “about your life.”

Camila pauses in thought, because what could be interesting enough to tell two _award winning actresses?_ They’ve done so many more interesting things; Camila’s life would seem boring in comparison. But she speaks anyway, because Lauren had asked, and Camila has pretty much always been under the impression that she’d do anything for Lauren Jauregui.

“One time, when I was like… fourteen? I took my little sister out to the park. I wasn’t supposed to, but she asked me, and I was desperate to seem grown up,” Camila starts, “so we walked to the nearest park, and played. We had so much fun that we lost track of time, and the next thing I knew, there were policemen walking towards us. They asked me if my name was Karla, and I said yes-”

“But your name is Camila,” Lauren interrupts her, but then has the courtesy of looking apologetic, “sorry, that was rude.”

“Camila is my middle name, but I’ve always preferred it. It’s just my parents that call me Karla,” Camila explains, “but yeah, the cops asked me my name and I told them, and the next thing I know, they ask me and Sofi to come with them. I’m freaking out, because I’m like _oh my god we’re getting arrested_ , but then they took us back to our house. Turns out my mom thought we’d been kidnapped and called the police.”

Lucy laughs, “at least you know she cares enough to call the cops if you go missing.”

“Yeah, but that information totally wasn’t worth the shouting that happened once the cops left,” Camila cringes at the memory, “so, yeah, that pretty much deterred me from ever doing anything bad ever again.”

“One time when I was five I stole a set of lipsticks from the Disney store.” Lauren says, and even though Camila has already heard the story – _yes_ from an interview – she laughs at all the right parts. But then Lauren tells her something she _doesn’t_ know. “Another time, when I was eight, I accidentally stole some tic tacs from the store. Like, I didn’t mean to steal them, I was just holding them and never put them back. And then when I got home, I realised I stole them and told my dad and he just said _well, the police are going to come and arrest you, because you’re a shoplifter_. I hid under the kitchen table and cried for three hours because I was scared I was going to go to jail and I’d never see my family again.”

“Bet your mom was happy with your dad for that one,” Camila chuckles, “did you seriously hide under a table for three hours?”

“Yeah. I can be very dramatic sometimes. It’s probably why I’m-” she cuts herself off before the words come out, and rubs at her clouded eyes with the back of her hand, “apparently so extra.”

It’s a nice save, but Camila knows she was going to say _it’s probably why I’m an actress._ But she lets her get away with it, and when Lauren yawns, she asks, “are you tired?”

“It’s the wine,” Lauren says, yawning again, “makes me sleepy sometimes.”

Camila laughs. “If you’re so sleepy, go to bed.”

“I can’t do that, I have to be a good hostess,” Lauren rubs at her eyes again and sits up, “would you like another drink? Or a snack? I can make you something.”

“No, that’s alright, Lo,” the nickname spills out before she can do anything about it, but Lauren just smiles when she hears it.

“I’m really glad you’re my friend,” Lauren smiles at her, and she looks so _happy_ that it makes Camila’s heart swell. “I’m happy I met you.”

“I’m happy I met you, too,” Camila says, and she doesn’t add that she’d almost met her before, at Comic Con two years ago, but the _Silverhollow_ meet and greet had been cancelled. “It’s nice to actually have a friend in my classes, honestly. My roommates and I all do different stuff, so…”

“I guess college isn’t _that_ bad,” Lauren looks over at Lucy, who is watching her with mild amusement, “I may have exaggerated. Camila makes it nice.”

“You know what? I think I might go make you a sandwich to soak up your alcohol.” Lucy pushes herself off the couch, squeezing Lauren’s shoulder comfortingly. “Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

“I’m not even that drunk,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “I had like… three glasses of wine. You had a glass and Camila had a glass, which means I’ve not even had a whole bottle.”

“Wow, shocking you’re not doing a degree in math with those skills,” Lucy teases her, “I’m still making you something. Camila, want anything?”

Ordinarily, she would, but she doesn’t want to burden _Lucy Vives_ with anything, so she shakes her head. “No, I’m alright.”

Lucy nods, and heads over to the kitchen to make something for Lauren. Camila uses this as her perfect opportunity to comment, “it’s sweet that she cares about you so much.”

Lauren hums, resting her head against the back of the couch. “Yeah. She’s a good friend.”

She emphasises the word friend, but Camila asks it anyway, “are you guys… uh…?”

“Together?” Lauren finishes for her, and she feels guilty when she expects her to be _angry_. But Lauren just shakes her head and sends her a sad kind of smile. “No. A lot of people seem to think that, though. But we don’t like each other like that. I’ve actually- um, never dated a girl before. But I still like them a lot. I just don’t really know how to talk to them.”

“Well,” Camila laughs, “just talk to them like you’d talk to a boy you like.”

“But it’s _different,”_ Lauren emphasises this with a dramatic sigh, “I sort of- when I like a girl and I want to flirt, it’s like my brain forgets how to work. With boys, it’s really easy to make them like you, you just have to wear clothes that make your boobs look good, but with girls, they’re not _dumb_ enough to be fooled like that.”

“I mean, if I was confronted by a pretty girl wearing a shirt that showed a lot of cleavage, she could probably get me to do anything she wants,” Camila comments, “but I get what you mean. Girls like making connections.”

“Exactly! And how am I supposed to do that when I forget my whole vocabulary?” Lauren complains. “It’s hard to be smooth when you can’t even remember the word _hello.”_

“Have you ever had a proper crush on a girl? Like, how’d you figure out you were bisexual?” Camila asks, because she obviously doesn’t know this; Lauren isn’t out to the public. “Tell me all the juicy gossip?”

“I never really realised until I was like eighteen,” Lauren tells her, and Camila knows she was eighteen when the show first aired, seventeen/eighteen when they filmed the first season. “I probably _should’ve_ , because when I was younger, I definitely had at least one crush on a girl. My best friend Alexa, actually, but I was nine, so I just recognised it as _really_ wanting to be her friend. I honestly only realised because other people were pointing things out about me, saying that they thought I might be into girls. I freaked out, honestly, and it kind of traumatised me, because I wasn’t ready to accept that about myself. And then when I finally did accept that I was bisexual, and I told my mom, she said maybe it was best that I kept that to myself. She regrets saying that to me now, and she’s a lot more understanding, I think it was just the initial shock, but her saying that also kind of fucked me up a little. I still haven’t really told anybody. My family know, and Lucy knows, and a couple of friends like you, but… that’s it.”

Camila frowns. “Why don’t you want to tell people?”

“I mean, I just don’t want to have this big _coming out_ thing. Because it’s not a big deal to me, it’s just a part of me, not the whole thing,” Lauren shrugs, “but it’s also like… the people that freaked me out when I was so young and made discovering my sexuality a literal trauma for me… I guess I just don’t want to give them the satisfaction of being right. Because then they’ll probably pat themselves on the back like they _helped_ me, when really I fucking hate them for it.”

The words bring a newfound sympathy for her that Camila didn’t know she had. She guesses it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like it’s portrayed to be, to be a famous actor. She can’t imagine being forced to go through that, to still be discovering herself, but have millions of people overanalysing everything she does and pinning labels on her while she’s still trying to figure everything out… it’s no wonder that Lauren hates _‘Laucy’_ so much.

 _Or the fans_ , Camila thinks, _she just said she fucking hates her fans_. _Which means you can never tell her you are one._

“I’m sorry it had to happen that way,” Camila sucks in her nerves and takes Lauren’s hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “Discovering your sexuality should be a beautiful thing, and it sucks that for so many people it’s not.”

Lauren looks down at their hands, and runs her thumb across Camila’s knuckles. The younger girl practically shivers at her touch, and her brain is kind of going into overdrive, because _Lauren Jauregui is holding her hand_.

“What about you?” Lauren asks, and Camila has to really focus to remember what they were even talking about. “How’d you figure out you were gay?”

“Pretty sure I just came out of the womb waving a rainbow flag,” Camila snorts with laughter, “my homosexual awakening happened when I was like four and I had the biggest crush on Spinelli from Recess. I guess like the bad girls.”

“So you just… always knew?” Lauren asks her, and Camila nods, “you’re lucky. Lucy was like that too. We had a whole dramatic talk when I was realising it and kind of having an emotional breakdown.”

“I mean, I didn’t really have a concept of _gay or straight_ as a kindergartener. I just knew that girls were really pretty, and when I _did_ learn the concepts, I was just like _oh, alright then_. I got shoved around a lot in school for it, but in myself, I tried not to stress about it.” Camila shrugs, knowing she had it a lot easier than most when it came to figuring herself out. “Like I said, people were mean in school, and when I was younger I definitely cried about it, but I learned to grow thick skin and ignore them. They were the closed-minded ones, while it took a while to learn, I realised I should never change myself for people like them. Why would I want to?” _You were the one who helped me with that,_ Camila thinks _, you and Lucy, your characters, seeing people in a relationship where the emphasis wasn’t on the fact that they were in a gay relationship, just the fact that they were in love._ “Since then, I’ve just been super open and proud about it.”

“Why would anyone be mean to you?” Lauren frowns like she can’t quite grasp the idea. “You’re amazing. And I’m sorry people were jerks. That’s kind of why I’m glad I didn’t figure it out until after high school. Though, fun fact; my ex-boyfriend – we dated in high school and a little while after – but a little while ago, he came out as bisexual and he has a boyfriend now, and when he told me I was like yeah, same, just that I’m depressingly single.”

“Clearly you flocked to each other,” Camila laughs, “you could sense each other’s bisexuality.”

“There’s no other explanation,” Lauren jokes with her, and after a few moments of thought, she sighs and adds, “No, I wish I was like you or Lucy. I wish I’d just _known_.”

“Well, you know now,” Camila tries to cheer her up, squeezing her hand, because _they’re still fucking holding hands_ and Camila really needs to keep herself composed. “And are those people – the ones who pressured you about it – are they out of your life?”

“Sometimes I feel like they never will be,” Lauren sighs, running her free hand through her hair. “I just- do you ever wish you were invisible? Because I do. Sounds pathetic, and I didn’t tell you this when you asked, but a big part of why I came here was to get away from them. Not _all_ of them, but…”

Lauren sighs, and when she rests her head on Camila’s shoulder, the younger girl’s stomach flips. “It’s not pathetic. You got out of a toxic environment, that’s pretty damn hard to do. You were brave.”

“Pretty sure LA is one of the most toxic places on earth,” Lauren mutters, “I’m glad to be away from it all. Even if I have to go back at some point.”

“Are you just here for a semester?” Camila asks, trying not to sound too panicked, because she _likes_ spending time with Lauren. If Lauren disappeared off back to LA, back to the show and her glamorous life of award shows and money and _Hollywood_ , what’s to say she’d keep in contact with Camila? “Are you moving back to the basement after Christmas?”

At the mention of _the basement_ , Lauren laughs, and when she sits up and shakes her head, relief floods through Camila like a tidal wave. “No, no. I’m here until I finish my degree. So, this year. After that… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Do what makes you happy,” Camila tells her, and Lauren watches her with a small smile on her face. “It’s your life. Nobody else’s.”

As Lucy walks back over with the sandwich she’d made for Lauren, Lauren flashes her a grin and squeezes her hand. “Thanks, Camz.”

When she lets go to take her plate from Lucy, it’s like the image of her touch had been burned into Camila’s brain, and she finds herself craving it instantly.


	7. Chapter 7

Lauren

“I still think you should tell her.”

“I know you do, but I’m not going to,” Lauren shakes her head, “at least not _yet_. Not until… until I can decide whether or not she’ll treat me differently.”

Lucy rolls her eyes, shouldering her overnight bag and checking her phone to see if her Uber has arrived to take her to the airport. She’s flying back to LA today, and since Lauren doesn’t have class until the afternoon, she’d decided to spend the morning with her. “Look, she obviously cares about you, and if you told her, I doubt she’d make a big deal about it. Especially if you made it clear you were uncomfortable with that.”

“When has anyone ever cared about what makes me _comfortable_?” Lauren bitterly replies, but feels guilty for snapping immediately after it happens, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry. I just… sometimes I wish I’d never auditioned for that stupid show, because then people wouldn’t treat me differently. Then when I find the _one_ person on the fucking planet who _hasn’t_ seen it, and you want me to tell her about it?”

“You said it yourself, you’re crushing on her,” Lucy points out, “if you want to be with her, you have to be honest with her.”

“I doubt she even likes me like that. She kept staring at you when she met you, and she asked if we were together,” Lauren lists, “she probably likes you, not me.”

Lucy watches her with mild amusement as Lauren talks herself out of any possibility of Camila liking her back. “Ever think she was asking because she likes _you_? She was holding your hand like the whole night-”

Lauren shakes her head. “Only because I was being clingy because I was tipsy.”

“Oh my god, Lo,” Lucy laughs, “don’t you _want_ her to like you?”

“I- of course I do, I just don’t think she does, so there’s no point in you getting my hopes up,” Lauren sighs, and when Lucy’s phone buzzes, she pulls her in for a hug. “Please don’t go. I could use a roommate.”

“You know if we _both_ left the show, the whole world would implode,” Lucy laughs, “it’s bad enough that you’re leaving. Can’t wait to see the reaction to the cliffhanger. They’re all going to think you’re dead.”

“It would be more meaningful if I was,” Lauren snuggles into her, but when Lucy’s phone starts to ring, she finally lets her go. “Alright. I’ll walk you down to your cab.”

She grabs her backpack with her laptop in to take notes in her class later. They take the stairs instead of the elevator, and when they leave the apartment building, Lauren pulls Lucy into another hug. She knows she shouldn’t; if anyone pictured them, the shippers would blow it way out of proportion, and they’re _already_ going crazy at the fact that Lucy spent the weekend at Lauren’s.

“I’ll see you soon,” Lucy assures her, giving her one last squeeze before letting go and getting into her Uber. “I’ll text you once my flight lands in LA.”

“Okay. Have a safe flight,” Lauren says, but it’s a little half-hearted, because she really wishes that Lucy was staying. But the cab drives away, and as she properly pulls her backpack onto her shoulders and turns in the direction of campus, she mumbles to herself, “back to reality.”

She keeps her head down as she walks to campus, ignoring the one guy with a camera who thinks it’s a nice idea to harass her, asking if she and Lucy had had a romantic weekend, if she was just going to _come out_ already. She so desperately wants to tell him what she really thinks of him, but he has a camera, and she knows her PR team would hate her for it, and she doesn’t want to cause them any unnecessary stress.

When he realises he’s not going to get a rise out of her, he leaves her alone after snapping a few photos _without_ her consent, and Lauren squeezes her eyes shut to hold back the tears of frustration. Outwardly, she acts like it never happened, and makes her way to her class, aware of the stares and whispers as she passes by groups of people.

 _Why can’t they just get used to it?_ Lauren thinks to herself. _I’ve been here for nearly two months, and they act like I’ve just shown up._

“Vanessa, hey, can I get a picture?”

 _Ignore them ignore them ignore them_ , Lauren thinks to herself, quickening her pace. If she can just make it to her lecture hall, she’ll be fine. Nobody will talk to her if she puts her headphones on until the lecturer arrives. She doesn’t care if it makes her a bitch, but obviously if they were a big enough fan, they’d know that _her name isn’t fucking Vanessa._

“I’m actually an aspiring actress,” the person who was speaking grabs her arm, and she whirls around to meet the gaze of a girl around her age, “I was wondering if you could get me in contact with-”

“Maybe learn the person’s name before you try to use them for your own personal gain,” Lauren snaps, and she knows she _shouldn’t_ have, regrets it the second it comes out of her mouth, but she _just_ wants to get to her class without someone _wanting_ something from her.

Before the girl can reply, someone calls out “Lauren, hey!” and she feels the anger bubbling to the surface. _What now?_ She thinks, but when she turns to ask for some space, she sees Camila and everything just _relaxes._

“Hi,” Lauren says, completely unfazed when the girl from before mutters _wow, what a bitch_ , and walks away. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Camila smiles, and looking in the general direction of the way the girl went, she adds, “you looked like you needed saving. What’d she want?”

“I- uh, just asking for notes,” Lauren gets out, and so she doesn’t seem like a total bitch, she adds, “but she didn’t even get my name right, so…”

“Then you have a total right to say no,” Camila smiles at her, and Lauren’s heart flutters, because she’s so _fucking_ beautiful and not even in an understated kind of way. She’s just wearing an old _Hufflepuff_ sweater and jeans, and she still looks absolutely flawless. “Are you doing anything right now?”

Even though she has a class, and even though her inner teacher’s pet is screaming at her for it, she shakes her head. “No, just… thinking of going to the library. Why?”

“Well, I won’t rip you away from your studies if you don’t want me to, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over.” Camila offers, and excitement bubbles at the pit of Lauren’s stomach like a puppy getting told they’re going for a walk. “I figure if I’m going to watch _The Haunting of Hill House_ , I should do it in daylight so I don’t _completely_ scare myself, but I’m definitely still going to need a hand to hold.”

“I think I can provide that,” Lauren plays it off casually, like she’s not incredibly happy at the idea of hanging out with Camila and _holding her hand again_. “So, what classes have you had today?”

“I had a composition class at eleven, then renaissance literature just now.” Camila says, rolling her eyes at the last class. “Love composition, hate renaissance lit.”

“I did that last year, actually. Obviously through online lectures and stuff, but I feel that. I hated it too,” Lauren replies, following Camila, walking past the building she’s supposed to be in in favour of spending time with the younger girl. “Not sure I actually paid much attention when watching the lectures back. Just wasn’t engaging.”

“So, how’d you do examination stuff?” Camila asks. “Like, if you were working from home, what about exams?”

“Well, I still submitted the essays online like everyone else, and I used to come up here to do my exams on the specific dates in a separate room from everyone else,” Lauren recalls; it had been collectively agreed that her presence in the main exam hall would’ve been distracting. “So I came to campus for a couple of hours to do my exams, then I’d go back to LA.”

“Oh, interesting,” Camila answers, “that’s not so bad, I guess. But I don’t know, I don’t think I could do that. I like to complain about my exams for weeks to my friends, and I couldn’t do that if I didn’t know any other students. Now we can complain about exams together.”

Camila nudges against her playfully, and that part of Lauren that always turns into mush when her crushes do _anything_ completely melts. She really has to focus to reply, “Yeah. I’m totally down to be study buddies for the American literature final.”

“Just down this way,” Camila says to her as Lauren almost walks in the completely wrong direction, and when she blushes in embarrassment, Camila just smiles endearingly. “Are you sure you want to be study buddies? Because _trust me_ , I’m a total mess around exam period.”

“Maybe that’s because you usually study by yourself,” Lauren suggests, “we can test each other. Whenever my finals are usually creeping up, I make little flash cards and force Lucy to test me, but since we’re in the same class, it would benefit us both.”

“Damn, I _definitely_ made the right choice in making friends with you,” Camila grins, “can’t wait to have straight A’s this year. It’ll be the only _straight_ thing about me.”

Lauren laughs, “Nice gay joke. I find that only LGBT people can make decent gay jokes, any time the straights do it, it’s just…”

“Offensive,” Camila finishes for her, and when she digs into her back pocket for her keys, Lauren’s eyes wander downwards, and she doesn’t even realise that she’s _blatantly staring at her ass_ until Camila turns around and Lauren’s gaze snaps back up to meet her eyes. She doesn’t mention it, but she smiles almost _knowingly_. “Anyway, come on, the house is just down this street.”

She pulls Lauren down another street, of small, mostly terraced houses, and Lauren knows that her apartment would probably look suspiciously spacious to be somewhere a _student_ lives. She jumps when Camila takes her hand, but loops her fingers through Camila’s and lets her lead her to her house. She pushes open a front gate, and Camila waves her arm over the little flowerbeds out front.

“That’s Ally’s doing.” She explains, “If it were left to Dinah, Mani and I, it would look like a total mess.”

Lauren hums in reply, waiting for Camila to unlock the front door. “So she’s the responsible one?”

“Yep, she’s basically the mom of the group,” Camila laughs, unlocking the front door and holding it open for Lauren. “After you.”

Lauren steps into the hallway; it’s kind of cramped, and definitely not the kind of place she’s used to, but she already likes it. It’s just _normal_ , and Lauren pretty much craves normalcy. There’s pairs of shoes littered by the door, some lined up, and a pair of converse left haphazardly on the ground, and the door directly to her right opens up to a little lounge area. In front of her, there’s another door, this one closed, a staircase, and she can see straight through to the kitchen. It’s remarkably clean, especially considering four students live there, but again, Lauren assumes it’s Camila’s friend Ally’s doing.

“This is the lounge,” Camila nudges the door open wider, so Lauren can see in properly. It’s empty, and the TV is switched off, but there’s a blanket left thrown across one couch, and an empty coffee mug on the table. “If you want to just- uh, sit in there for a few minutes, I’m just going to go sort out the absolutely catastrophic mess that is my bedroom, also known as throwing everything into my closet to make it look slightly presentable.”

Lauren laughs at the blatant honesty, completely oblivious to the fact that Camila has had posters of her on her wall since they’d moved in, as well as seasons 1 and 2 of _Silverhollow_ on DVD proudly displayed at the top of her bookshelf. “Alright. Have fun doing that.”

“Wait, do you want a drink?” Camila realises her hostess role. “Sorry, I literally never have anyone over so I’m totally alien to the whole _hosting_ thing.”

“It’s fine, Camz,” Lauren assures her, using the nickname she’d let slip out while she was tipsy. “And I’m alright for now. Go sort your supposedly messy bedroom out.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll get on that,” Camila sends her a sheepish smile, “I’ll be right back.”

Once Camila disappears out of the room, and she hears her footsteps heading up the flight of stairs, Lauren pulls her phone from her pocket and opens up Twitter. She’d admittedly neglected the app recently, favouring Instagram more than anything, but she figures she might as well give the fans a little attention, even if some of them annoy her.

 **@LaurenJauregui** Hi chickens! Sorry to all of you lil nuggets on here, not been feeling Twitter recently. Anyone feel like a quick #asklauren to make up for it? :)

There are hundreds of responses in _seconds_ , and Lauren is a little overwhelmed by it all, but she goes through the hashtag and picks the most interesting questions, ignoring anything referencing her sexuality or the users who obviously live in the fictional reality in which she and Lucy have secretly eloped.

 **@snugvanmilias** how is college going!! we miss you!!  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@snugvanmilias_ It’s going well, thank you for asking!

 **@vanessaregui** whats your fav memory from filming silverhollow? PS I love you  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@vanessaregui_ Most definitely when Lucy and I were supposed to be filming the season 2 sex scene and I fell off the bed and flat on my face. I ended up chipping a tooth but it was funny as fuck. PS…. I love you too!

 **@vanmilgbtq** please tell me you’re gonna be attending some kind of premiere or event soon??? I hope you are bc I need HQ pics of you on the red carpet it’s been SO LONG  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@vanmilgbtq_ Sorry! No plans to do anything like that for a while. Just trying to focus on college right now, but here is an iPhone quality selfie to hold you over. :)

She attaches a goofy selfie to that last one, and then returns to replying to a couple more, hearing Camila hurrying around upstairs.

 **@laurnjauregay** have you got any new roles?? with this mid-season hiatus im starved for content and i miss your pretty face!!  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@laurnjauregay_ No plans right now! Putting everything I have into this season of Silverhollow, as well as working on my degree. Anything else and I think I might need to clone myself to get it all done!

 **@vanmilias** Is it true you’re doing some interviews to promote the new season during the mid-season break?   
**@LaurenJauregui** _@vanmilias_ I swear you guys know more than I do most of the time! I don’t have anything planned at the moment, but who knows? It’s possible that there is something booked and I haven’t been given a schedule yet

 **@jaurevives** did you have fun hanging with lucy this weekend????  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@jaurevives_ Of course I did, I always have fun hanging out with her. She’s one of my best friends and I’m very grateful that she took the time to come up to Stanford to visit me.

“Hey, sorry, it was a lot messier than I realised,” Camila pops her head around the door, sending her a sheepish smile, “but it looks totally clean now. Unless you look in my closet, so… please don’t.”

Lauren locks her phone, tucking it back into her pocket, and follows Camila up the stairs. “Which room is yours?”

“That one,” Camila points to the room towards the front of the house, “Mani and Dinah are up here too, and Ally has the room downstairs. She pushes the door open, and holds it for Lauren to go in first, “welcome to my cave.”

The closet is quite literally full to bursting – the door isn’t entirely shut, and Lauren has the hilarious mental image of Camila shoving things into the closet in an attempt to make her room appear tidy. The white sheets on the bed are made, but messily so; the sheets have been thrown across, the pillows aren’t fluffed and there’s creases on the sheets, but it’s so _Camila_. The curtains are open, but the blinds are still shut, and almost as if she realises that, Camila switches the light off and dives across to open the blinds, letting the sun in, and smiling that same sheepish smile again. The little bookcase is messy and totally unordered, but again, it’s just _Camila_. If there’s anything she’d have expected, it’s this.

She especially likes the Hufflepuff banner pinned to the wall above Camila’s bed. Looking at the younger girl’s sweater, she smiles, “I’m guessing you’re a Hufflepuff, then?”

Camila blushes, smoothing out her sweater like she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “Uh, yeah.”

Lauren grins. “Me too, actually.”

“Really?” Camila asks, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to her. “I got more Ravenclaw vibes from you.”

“A lot of people say that. That or Slytherin.” Lauren laughs. “I never get the Gryffindor label, and most people are surprised when I tell them I’m actually a Hufflepuff.”

“And just when I think you can’t get any cuter,” Camila says, and Lauren blinks in surprise, shocked that she’d say something like that. _Is she flirting_? “Anyway, let me get Netflix on. This is literally the only reason I have a TV screen in here, so I can watch Netflix on a proper screen even if my roommates are hogging the TV.”

“Smart move,” Lauren comments, still a little surprised and overwhelmed by what she’d said. “You know, I- I…”

She trails off, the words stuck in her throat, because she’s _not_ smooth and she can’t flirt when she actually likes someone. She’d wanted to say _I like smart girls_ , but she felt like the moment had passed, and she didn’t know if Camila had even been flirting with her in the first place.

“What?” Camila asks, turning the TV screen on and connecting Netflix to it through her phone. When she turns to look at Lauren, she’s smirking, and almost like she’d read her mind, she says, “You got a thing for smart girls or something?”

“I- um,” Lauren blushes, not meeting Camila’s gaze, “yeah, actually.”

Camila grins, and searches for the show, pressing play on the first episode. She pushes herself back and rests against her pillows, and after a few minutes of hesitation but knowing that she’d be more comfortable, Lauren moves back too, sitting next to her.

As she gets herself comfortable, Camila grabs her hand, flashing her a small smile. “You said you’d offer your services as a professional hand holder.”

“I- yeah,” Lauren murmurs, squeezing Camila’s hand as the first episode plays. Since she’s seen it before, Lauren knows when the occasional scares are coming, but she’s glad that she can play it off as _fear_ when Camila jumps and snuggles close to her, because at the rate her heart is beating, it would be _obvious_ that she’s crushing on her in any other context.

When they reach a very tense part of the show, Camila grips onto Lauren’s hand so tightly that she thinks she’s probably broken something, and when the younger girl’s bedroom door swings open, even Lauren jumps, but Camila lets out a loud as fuck _scream_ , and that freaks Lauren out even more.

Camila scrambles to pause the show as a practically flawless girl laughs at their reaction. Lauren recognises her from Camila’s Instagram, but she doesn’t know her name. “Damn, Mila, didn’t realise I was _that_ scary.”

“Oh my god,” Camila chokes out, pretty much hyperventilating, “I didn’t realise anyone was home, I thought it was a fucking _demon_. Fuck, Mani, I think you actually just gave me a heart attack.”

“Alright, for future reference,” The girl – Mani – rolls her eyes, “everyone is home now. It’s 5PM, you know none of us have late classes this semester.”

Lauren doesn’t really know what to say, just rubs comforting circles into Camila’s back and helps her calm down, hyperaware of the way the girl is looking at them. Once Camila relaxes, she finally turns to Lauren fixes her with a small smile. “Well, now you know I’m a total wimp.”

“I mean, I already knew that from any of the parts that were slightly tense,” Lauren teases her, “are you not a horror fan?”

“Nope, not at all, I think I might need to watch something cheesy after _that_. Like an episode of _Glee_ or something,” Camila laughs, and when she looks up at the girl in the doorway, her eyes widen in realisation, “ _Oh!_ Mani, this is Lauren, she’s a friend from one of my classes. Lauren, this is Normani, one of my roommates. And best friends.”

“Hi,” Lauren smiles shyly, because Normani is basically flawless and it’s kind of intimidating as fuck. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Normani smiles, but then she sends Camila this _look_ that Lauren can’t quite figure out, and it makes the anxiety at the pit of her stomach bubble up. “Anyway, Mila, Ally was wondering what you wanted to do for dinner. Should I let her know you have a friend over?”

Before Lauren can assure her that it’s alright, that she’ll go, that she doesn’t want to burden anyone, Camila says, “I don’t know. I was thinking Lauren and I would just get takeout and continue on our little binge-watch of this terrifying show.”

That’s when Lauren gets her opening. “I can go if it’s going to cause trouble-”

“It’s not,” Camila sends her a reassuring smile, “How many episodes does this have?”

“Ten,” Lauren answers, “and we’re halfway through episode three.”

“Alright. Okay,” Camila nods, and for a moment, she looks totally deep in thought, until she says to Normani, “tell Ally we’ll figure something out for ourselves.”

Normani nods, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her, and Lauren turns to Camila with a frown. “You want me to stay for dinner?”

“Well, seven episodes left. We can totally do that in a night, right?” Camila asks, and it’s more rhetorical than anything. “So I’m thinking… you go home, grab some overnight stuff, then come back and we just binge the whole thing with a load of junk food. Sound good? I’m kind of praying you’ll say yes, because there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep alone tonight after _this_.”

If there’s something Lauren _wasn’t_ expecting, it’s a _sleepover_ invitation. She’s not complaining, obviously; she likes that she has a real friend here, and the invitation means Camila sees her the same way.

(Well, not _entirely_ the same way, since Camila probably isn’t hopelessly crushing on _Lauren_ , but still.)

“Yeah. I’m down for that.” Lauren smiles, and she suddenly feels a whole lot _less_ guilty about skipping her class. “Honestly, I don’t think I’d be able to stay in my apartment by myself tonight, so this totally works out for me.”

Camila grins. “Perfect. We’ll finish this episode, and then you can grab your stuff? Then we can order trashy takeout.”

“Okay,” Lauren’s stomach flutters at the thought; not only does she get to spend time with her _crush_ – _god, she hates how schoolgirly that sounds –_ but it’s one of the only _normal_ kind of hangouts she’s had in years. Whenever she’s with Lucy, they’re generally bitching about fame, making fun of the celebrities they’ve met that are definitely trying too hard. Whenever she goes home, her family and friends are always asking how LA is, how the show is doing, and all of this other stuff that revolves around her life as an actress. It’s nice to just _pretend_ that she’s not that, even if it’s only for a night.

It makes her fall for Camila just that little bit more.

Camila

“So, what happened to _I’m not going to talk to her_?”

Camila rolls her eyes at Normani, and from the way Ally and Dinah are looking at her, she knows she’s told them about Lauren, and the way they were holding hands before Normani had completely jumpscared them both.

“ _She_ approached _me_ , okay?” Camila defends herself, and she looks to Dinah for help, because she’d told her some details. Not the parts where she’d gone over to Lauren’s apartment at the weekend, met Lucy Vives, and held hands with a tipsy Lauren Jauregui who kind of told her that she _hates_ _her fans._ “DJ, I was serious when I said I wouldn’t talk to her, you know that, but you _also_ know that she kept talking to me. I told you, she sat next to me in the lecture, _and_ she asked to meet that Wednesday to walk to class.”

“She’s not lying,” Dinah defends her, and Camila breathes a sigh of relief, “about _that_ , anyway. Have you told her you’re a fan?”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, can we please not talk about this now, she could come back in any minute.”

“And that’s a no,” Ally translates aloud, “you should be honest with her, Mila.”

“I _wanted_ to be, but I never got an opening to say _hey, I like the show_ , and I feel like she’d probably be freaked out, and after stuff she’s told me, I can’t risk telling her,” Camila tries to defend her choice, “she kind of said that she hates her fans.”

“What, she said that to you directly? _I hate my fans?”_ Normani asks. “Because if she did, she’s kind of an asshole. Without people like you, she wouldn’t have a career.”

“It’s not like that, and no, she didn’t say it directly, just made some vague comments about how people freaked her out and pushed labels onto her and made her insecure with her sexuality, and those are the intense Laucy shippers, and I don’t blame her for being upset about that.” Camila easily supports Lauren; she’s almost _used_ to doing it, since it was basically her hobby on her fan account. “Actually, she’s- she hasn’t mentioned the show at all. And whenever I’ve given her obvious openings to, she kind of brushes it off. Like, when I met Lucy last weekend, I asked how they knew each other, and Lauren just said _work_.”

“So you’re both lying to each other,” Normani concludes, “that’s fucked up.”

“But it’s not like she can get mad at you,” Dinah muses, “like, if she gets upset at you for not telling her you were a fan, then you can point out that she didn’t tell you she’s an actress. She’d be a hypocrite to get upset at you.”

“She would have a total right to be mad at me. I don’t blame her, after some of the things she’s told me, and I _know_ she hasn’t even told me everything, how the fans affect her and stuff,” Camila runs a hand through her hair, “I just don’t want to tell her, because I don’t want to risk her dropping me. I really like her. Like, more than before.”

Ally raises her eyebrows, “You’re crushing on her?”

“Yeah, but not in the way I was before. Before, she was like, this unattainable celebrity crush, and even though I kind of adored her, I didn’t _know_ her.” Camila sighs, squashing herself onto the couch between Dinah and Ally and feeling immediately comforted when they both wrap their arms around her in a hug. “But now I _do_ know her, and she’s so much better than I ever imagined.”

“You know she likes you back, right?”

Camila sits bolt upright to look at Normani, just to double check she’s not smoking a fuck ton of _crack_. “Uh, _what_? No, she doesn’t. She’s _Lauren Jauregui_. She could date any famous actor or actress that she _wanted_ to date, any _millionaire_. Why would she want me? A boring college student?”

Rolling her eyes at Camila’s lack of confidence, Dinah asks Normani, “Why do you think she likes her?”

“Well, when I went upstairs to ask what Mila wanted to do for dinner, they were holding hands,” Normani points out, and Camila immediately ignores the point, because she’s _Camila_. She’s affectionate with all of her friends. “And then when I almost killed Mila from freaking her out, Lauren was looking all concerned and rubbing her back to calm her down. She looks at you with total heart eyes, by the way.”

“She likes _Lucy_ ,” Camila tries to argue, and she knows she sounds like one of those crazy shippers, but since last weekend, she’s kind of been convinced, “When I was with them, I asked her if they were together, and she looked all sad when she said no. And any time Lucy and I were talking or sat close, she’d squeeze herself between us and look all jealous.”

“Ever think she was jealous because she likes _you_?” Ally retorts, and it’s so weird hearing _sarcasm_ from her that Camila wonders if she’s on another planet right now. “Even if you _are_ going to make a move, you have to tell her the truth _first_. You need to tell her that you were a fan.”

“I will, but not… not tonight,” Camila shakes her head, “I just want to spend some time with her tonight, I don’t- I don’t want her to be weirded out when she finds out there were posters of her on my bedroom wall or that I had a fan account on Twitter and Instagram. You guys won’t tell her, will you?”

“That’s something you should do,” Normani says, “we won’t rat you out.”

“Thank you,” Camila breathes a sigh of relief, and when the doorbell rings, she jumps up. “That’s her. I- thanks, guys.”

She slips out of the lounge, making sure to shut the door behind her before she opens up the front door to Lauren. The older girl sends her a bright, goofy smile, and Camila’s stomach flips.

“Hey,” Lauren greets her, and when Camila looks her over, she realises she’s already switched into a pair of black sweats and an old baggy _The 1975_ t-shirt. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and the makeup she’d been wearing earlier had been taken off. Camila can see the little freckles dotted on the bridge of her nose, the ones she’d always adored, and it basically makes her melt. It makes her look a lot younger, and the bright smile on her face reminds Camila of the seventeen year old in the ‘first day on set’ interviews on the _Silverhollow_ season one DVD.

“Sorry,” Lauren notices her looking, “figured I might as well get kind of dressed down; nothing more uncomfortable than sitting in skinny jeans for hours.”

“I’m kind of slapping myself for not doing it too,” Camila smiles, “I’m also super jealous that you look damn good in _sweats_. That’s just not fair.”

Lauren blushes, and when Camila thinks back to what Normani says, her heart rate speeds up. _Could Lauren seriously like her?_ “I- thanks. You too. Well, I mean, you’re not wearing sweats, but when you are… I’m sure you look good.”

She remembers what Lauren had said the other night. _When I like a girl and I want to flirt, it’s like my brain forgets how to work._ The rambling definitely gives her hope. “Trust me, I most definitely look like a _mess_.”

“I find it hard to believe you ever could,” Lauren answers, and it’s smooth _enough_ for Camila to brush off any suspicions. She’s being stupid; Lauren would never like her. “Anyway, what’re we going to order?”

“It’s your choice. We could get some fast food in through Uber Eats like McDonalds or Taco Bell…” Camila suggests, “or we could order the classic kind of takeout. Pizza, Chinese, Thai… whatever you want.”

“You said we’d get something trashy, right? Taco Bell is kind of the definition of that,” Lauren says, and Camila laughs, already opening up her app to order for them. “I’m glad you invited me over, Camz.”

Camila adds what she wants and then passes her phone to Lauren, letting her add her own stuff to the basket. “I’ll admit, I had totally selfish intentions, because I’m going to need to hold your hand for the rest of the night, just because I can’t deal with scary shit.”

Lauren laughs, but there’s a faint pink blush on her cheeks as she follows Camila up the stairs towards the bedroom. “I can definitely do that.”

“Good,” Camila holds out her hand, and Lauren looks at it for a moment before she takes it, linking the fingers together in the _couple_ way to hold hands, all interlocked. She kicks open her bedroom door, and sits down on her bed, double checking their order status. “Do you want to bother starting an episode before our food gets here?”

“It’ll ruin the immersion if we have to pause halfway through and get takeout.” Lauren says, sitting down next to her, leaning against the headboard of Camila’s bed. “Want to play something?”

Camila frowns. “Like what?”

“Like a… never have I ever, or would you rather kind of thing,” Lauren says, “like… would you rather have a cat or a dog?”

“No hate to cats, but dogs all the way,” Camila easily answers, “I actually have two dogs back home in Miami, Thunder and Leo. What about you?”

“I’ll have one of each.” Lauren decides. “I have a dog at my parents’ house too. His name is Dash, but he’s more _their_ dog than mine anymore.”

“Maybe you should get one,” Camila suggests, “would you rather watch Netflix or traditional TV?”

“Netflix, _but_ since Game of Thrones is on traditional TV when it airs, I deal with the ads,” Lauren shrugs, “Would you rather watch a comedy show or a fantasy?”

While Camila’s favourite show, _Silverhollow_ , is a drama slash murder mystery, she does like her fair share of comedy shows. “I’m a big comedy fan. _Broad City, The Good Place, Friends_ , _Sex and the City_ , stuff like that.”

“I can’t stomach _Sex and the City_ because of this one scene I saw where they’re being incredibly fucking biphobic and saying things like _pick a side_ and that the guy shouldn’t have been open about it and saying that it was a problem.” Lauren lists, and Camila knows the scene she’s talking about; she’d found it pretty disgusting too. “After seeing that when it went viral on Twitter, I just can’t make myself watch it. _Friends_ was kind of offensive too, but it was never _blatantly_ homophobic.”

“I get what you mean. That whole scene just made me cringe.” Camila replies. “ _Friends_ had Carol and Susan, they were actually like a _normal_ family raising a child, so you’ve got to give them that.”

“I guess so. I don’t know, I feel like it’s different when you’re bisexual. Everyone says things like _oh, they all end up picking a side_ and I’m like _yeah, bisexuality isn’t polyamory.”_ Lauren rolls her eyes. “And everyone assumes that bi guys are taking a pit stop before gay town and bi girls are just straight and doing it for attention. Sorry, I’m ranting, it’s just…”

“It sucks.” Camila finishes for her, squeezing her hand. “I know. To be honest, I don’t understand those people who can’t grasp the concept of bisexuality. What’s not to get?”

Lauren meets her gaze, and sends her a small smile. “I guess that’s why I don’t really want to have a big coming out thing. If I end up with a woman, everyone will say that I was gay all along, but if I end up with a man, people will claim I’m actually straight and just said I was bisexual for attention.”

“As long as you and the people you care about know your truth, then that’s all that matters,” Camila assures her, “You’re worrying about those people who pointed stuff out about you, right? The ones who made it all…”

“Traumatic? Yes.” Lauren sighs. “Anyway. Back to the game. It was your turn.”

“Okay… a more existential one.” Camila thinks out loud. “Would you rather be _rich_ or famous?”

“Rich.” Lauren answers the question immediately, and Camila had definitely been expecting that one. “You?”

“Also rich, but not _too_ rich, you know?” Camila says, and when Lauren tilts her head to the side in confusion, she elaborates, “If I was given a billion dollars, I’d keep enough so I could live a comfortable life and never have to worry about debt, but then donate the rest to different charities I believe in.”

If Camila wasn’t so insecure and disbelieving of the idea that Lauren could possibly like her, she would’ve known immediately with the way the older girl looks at her with so much respect and admiration. “That’s- that’s really amazing.”

Camila blushes. “You think?”

“Yeah,” Lauren replies, and Camila doesn’t notice the way her gaze flicks down to her lips for a split second, the way she slowly starts to lean closer. “I do.”

Camila rubs her thumb against Lauren’s knuckles, and when she looks into those bright green eyes, she finds herself totally entranced. Lauren’s eyes are magical, green and golden galaxies that Camila could get lost in without trying. She doesn’t even realise how close they are until the doorbell rings loudly throughout the house and they jerk apart.

Camila lets out a shaky breath as Lauren slouches back against the headboard of her bed, looking a little ashamed of herself. She goes to reassure her, but the moment has passed, and the doorbell goes again, so Camila awkwardly excuses herself to get the food.

As she opens the door, awkwardly thanks the delivery guy and gives him a tip, she tries to shake what just happened from her head. _You imagined it_ , Camila tells herself, _there’s no way that Lauren Jauregui was about to kiss you_.

She grabs a couple of plates from the kitchen and takes their food upstairs. Quickly composing herself, and acting like absolutely nothing had happened – _because nothing did happen, Camila,_ \- she walks into the room with a grin and announces, “Rejoice, for our Taco Bell hath been delivered!”

Lauren laughs at her dorky joke, and takes one of the plates. It’s like any tension between them had evaporated, so that just leads Camila to believe that she’d imagined it. “Thanks. Are we actually about to eat _Taco Bell_ on your bed?”

“We have plates,” Camila shrugs; despite how messy she is in every other aspect, she’s actually a rather tidy eater. “It’ll be fine.”

“Damn,” Lauren comments, “you’re braver than me.”

Camila takes her food out of the bag and dumps it on her plate, passing Lauren whichever tacos are hers. She also puts a basket of nachos between them. “I figured I’d get some nachos for us to share, since that’s kind of a movie theatre thing, right?”

Lauren just shrugs, but thanks her anyway, taking one of the cheesier nachos and dipping it in a generous amount of salsa. “Are we going to start watching?”

“Sure,” Camila turns her TV on and opens up Netflix, starting episode four. She jumps up, draws the curtains, and switches off the light, before turning on the little string lights she has hung up around the door frame. “There. Watching it with the lights off is much creepier.”

“Okay, but apologies if I spill anything on your bed.” Lauren says, before she pauses mid taco bite, plate balanced on her lap, and decides, “actually, I’ll wait until my eyes adjust.”

It’s not that bad; the light from the TV screen, as well as Camila’s string lights make the room a little brighter, and while it’s not a light that you could read in, they can still see well enough to eat.

The food lasts them through an episode, and before the fifth episode can start, Camila goes to get them drinks and take their trash away while Lauren has a quick bathroom break. In the kitchen, she runs into Normani, who sends her a teasing kind of look. “Made out yet?”

“Fuck off, Mani,” Camila rolls her eyes, “she doesn’t like me.”

Normani just smiles knowingly. “ _Sure_ she doesn’t.”

Camila ignores her as she fills up two glasses of water and heads back into her bedroom. Lauren is stood by her bed, playing on her phone, but she puts it away as soon as Camila walks back in.

“Thank you,” Lauren takes the water and has a sip, and that’s when Camila notices that instead of her black sweatpants, she’s wearing a pair of skimpy pyjama shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination.

She tries not to make her staring obvious, but it’s hard when Lauren Jauregui’s _ass_ is _that_ nice. She clears her throat, grabbing her pyjamas, and quickly excuses herself under the guise of changing.

Once she’s done that, she has time to mentally prepare for what she’s about to see, but when she walks in, Lauren is sat down on her bed, obviously scrolling through her Twitter feed.

When Camila sits down, she snuggles under her covers, and Lauren smiles, reaching across her to get her stuffed Nala out of her overnight bag, the one she always sees Lauren pictured with at airports.

Lauren notices her looking, because she announces, “alright, before you make fun, it’s a comfort thing.”

“I wasn’t going to make fun of you,” Camila replies, because she wasn’t. She thinks it’s adorable. “I think it’s cute. Who bought it for you?”

“I- um…” Lauren hesitates, and Camila wonders why. Maybe she’d gotten it on set or something? “Actually, I kind of bought her for myself. I just… needed something to cuddle. I wasn’t exactly going through the best time. I know it’s lame, but…”

“Oh. Aw,” Camila smiles, “it’s not lame. I actually have a little teddy bear I sometimes snuggle with. It was my little sister’s, and she gave him to me when I moved away to come here for college. Sometimes, when I miss home, I snuggle with him.”

Whatever shyness Lauren has over the stuffed animal disappears instantly. Instead, she snuggles Nala to her chest and joins Camila under the covers, resting her head back on the pillows. The younger girl presses play on the next episode, and as it gets scarier, Camila finds herself inching closer to Lauren. Half because the show is fucking scary, but also because she kind of just wants to cuddle her.

_“I love hugs,” Lauren tells the interviewer, spinning a little on her chair, “for real, like, the best part about meeting fans is all the cuddles. It’s part of why I hate sleeping alone, I just really want someone to cuddle me.”_

As she remembers that old interview, from about a year and a half ago while Lauren was promoting season two of _Silverhollow_ , she wonders if it would be okay. If she could just wrap her arms around Lauren’s waist and pull her close. If Lauren would rest her head on Camila’s chest and watch the show with her like that.

She’s almost got enough courage to do it, but then there’s a scare in the show, and she jumps in surprise, totally wimping out. Lauren turns to her with a grin. “Scared, Camz?”

“It’s the dark, okay? I’m literally just thinking about all the demons lurking in the dark corners of my room,” Camila comments, and when Lauren rolls over on her side to look at her, she blurts out, “I need my professional hand holder.”

She holds out her hand, and Lauren just smiles, shuffling closer to her, so her entire left side is pressed up against Camila’s right. She takes her hand, locking their fingers together, and rests her head on Camila’s shoulder. The younger Latina smiles, and turns back to the show, knowing she can use whatever fear it inspires to play off how fast her heart is beating.

All she knows is that she adores this woman, more than she had before. She tries not to think about how complicated their situation is, about how Lauren doesn’t know she’d been a fan for years, about how _Camila_ is supposed to _not know_ that Lauren is an actress, but she _also_ believes that they’re beyond that. Lauren is more than just an idol to her; in fact, Camila doesn’t think she idolises her at all anymore. She _admires_ her, definitely; for everything she’s achieved in just twenty-one years, it would be hard not to. But it’s not the way it used to be. Lauren is her _friend_.

 _Which is why you can’t tell her you were a fan,_ Camila thinks _, especially not how big of a fan you were. You had her post notifications on, followed her every fucking move, checked LMJUpdates and VanmiliaUpdates at every chance you got._

 _But you need to be honest with her,_ the logical part of her pipes up, _how do you plan on doing that without freaking her out?_

Her first solution is just _make Dinah do it for me_ , but she realises that’s probably not the best plan. So, she decides she’ll wait for some kind of natural opening, and then she’ll tell Lauren.

 _When it feels right_ , Camila decides, but that doubt comes creeping back in again, _but what if it never does?_


	8. Chapter 8

Camila

It’s weird to watch her now that they’re _friends._

She’d decided to rewatch an episode of _Silverhollow_ ; one of her favourites, the season two episode with the _intimate_ scene between Vanessa and Emilia. Except now she feels _different._ Instead of being over the moon that her favourite couple are moving to that next level, it’s _unusual._ It’s not as satisfying as before.

She’s _especially_ taken off guard when Emilia kisses Vanessa, pushing her back against the door of her bedroom, and Camila feels a stab of _jealousy._ She shakes her head, because she doesn’t get why it would be different now; she’s always thought that Lauren was beautiful, and she was pretty much her number one celebrity crush.

 _But it’s different now, she’s your friend,_ Camila thinks to herself, _you know her, it’s makes it different._

She surprises herself even more when she skips through the scene, sighing with _relief_ when it cuts to a different scene in the school. She finds that she couldn’t _stomach_ it, to watch Lauren with Lucy, and—

 _Except it’s not Lauren and Lucy, it’s Vanessa and Emilia,_ Camila reminds herself, _they’re playing characters, and it’s not like they’re actually sleeping together. Why are you so jealous?_

 _Jealous._ When the word comes to mind, Camila finds herself trying to push that thought away, but she finds she can’t deny the obvious truth of it. It’s weird, because she’d never been bothered before; in fact, when the scene had initially aired, Camila remembers her celebratory tweets about it, and Camila had always found Lauren attractive. She was her celebrity crush, and she doesn’t see why it should be different now she’s just her _crush._

If she’s being honest, she doesn’t even see Lauren as a _celebrity_ anymore. There are times when she’s forgotten, times when Lauren texts her, and she doesn’t see a text from _Lauren Jauregui, award winning actress_ , she sees a text from _her friend, Lauren._

She hadn’t thought about the feelings she’d been having, not properly. Not until now, when she _skipped over_ a Vanmilia scene because she’s too _jealous_ to stomach it. She doesn’t understand _why_ though, because she knows that Lauren isn’t Vanessa, that she’s just playing a character, that it’s all fictional, but she looks at them kissing and feels _hurt,_ because all she sees is Lauren kissing Lucy, not Vanessa kissing Emilia.

She turns the TV off all together, and she _almost_ gets her things ready for class. _Almost_ , until Lauren replies to the text she’d sent to her earlier.

**Lauren (12:24PM): Sorry, Camz! Can’t meet you on campus, honestly feel so sick rn**

**Lauren (12:24PM): Don’t know if I’ll be well enough to come in tomorrow either, so we’ll have to wait until next week for our usual coffee/lunch routine**

**Camz (12:25PM): alright no worries**

**Camz (12:25PM): i’ll see u in 10 mins im coming over don’t worry im a fully qualified doctor (don’t look that up)**

She sends it on an impulse, and goes to put her shoes on; she’s got a class later, but she’d rather look after Lauren. If the older girl _wants_ her to.

**Lauren (12:26PM): You don’t need to come look after me! Honestly, I look kinda gross and I don’t want to give you anything**

**Camz (12:26PM): i find it hard to believe you could ever look gross**

She leaves her backpack, because she’s not going to bother going to class. She orders an Uber, and it doesn’t take long to show up. Tucking her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, she gets in the car and puts her headphones in so she _doesn’t_ have to talk to the driver. She doesn’t put any music on, just texts Lauren on her way.

**Lauren (12:26PM): No seriously Camz I’m so disgusting rn**

**Camz (12:31PM): laur you could never be disgusting**

**Camz (12:31PM): anyway i’m already in an uber to your place so pls let me in when i get there**

**Lauren (12:31PM): But Caaaaaamz I’m ugly!!!**

**Camz (12:31PM): look at u lying 2 urself**

**Camz (12:32PM): you are legitimately the most gorgeous woman i have ever met so there is no way in hell you could possibly look ugly**

**Camz (12:32PM): no homo though**

**Camz (12:32PM): unless ur into it ;)**

She regrets sending the last two messages pretty much instantly, and she hopes that Lauren takes them as a joke. It’s what she intended, even though she _is_ crushing on Lauren. Not that she’d ever have the guts to do anything about it; she feels like Lauren could wave a neon sign in front of her face saying she likes her back and she _still_ wouldn’t believe it. Because she’s _Lauren Jauregui._ She could have anyone she wanted.

 _But what if she wants you_ , that little voice in the back of her mind fills her with false hope, _it’s not so hard to believe that she could like you back._

 _Yes, but doing something about my feelings for her would require telling her that I was a fan,_ Camila reminds herself, _which I can’t do, because she’s made it pretty clear how she feels about her fans._

It’s _friends_ or nothing, Camila decides to herself. She knows deep down she can get over this stupid crush; it’s not like she hasn’t gotten over a crush she’s had on a friend before. Back in freshman year, she’d had a _big_ thing for Normani, and she’d managed to get over that.

(Granted, she’d started crushing on someone _else_ , and ended up dating that someone else, and that’s what helped her get over it, but _still_. It’s possible.)

When the Uber pulls up outside Lauren’s apartment building, Camila thanks her driver and gets out, walking over to the double doors to the lobby and ringing the bell for Lauren’s apartment number. She waits for her to answer, or waits for the doors to unlock for her to go inside. For a minute, she thinks that Lauren just isn’t going to let her in, but then the older girl answers.

 _“I can’t believe you came_ ,” Lauren’s voice is crackly through the speaker, _“tell me why I should let you in.”_

“Because like I said, I am the world’s most qualified doctor. Duh,” Camila jokes, waiting for Lauren to let her in, “plus, you know, I just want to make you feel better.”

Lauren lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “ _Alright, but you’re not allowed to be grossed out if I puke again.”_

“Promise I won’t be,” Camila assures her, and when the door clicks open, she heads through the lobby area of the apartment building, past the mailboxes and up through the stairwell. She finds herself regretting her choice to use the _stairs_ when she gets two floors up and starts to get out of breath, but she makes her way up to Lauren’s floor, pausing to catch her breath, and then heading down the hallway to knock on her apartment door.

Lauren pulls the door open slightly, pouting at her through a small gap. “I look bad.”

“Didn’t you read my text?” Camila asks her, not wanting to draw attention to it but _also_ not wanting Lauren to call herself ugly, because that’s something she could never be. “You could never look bad.”

Again, Lauren lets out that dramatic sigh, but she lets her in, and it’s obvious from looking at her that she’s just being dramatic. She’s paler than usual, with dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and she’s wearing sweatpants and an old band tee, but she doesn’t look _bad._

“You look fine,” Camila rolls her eyes after she takes a look at her, “you’re so extra.”

“Shut up,” Lauren rolls her eyes back at her, “I’m going back to bed, sorry I won’t be the best hostess.”

As she turns around, Camila notices just how shaky she is, and she takes her by the arm and leads her towards her bedroom door. “What do you think made you so sick?”

“I don’t know. Something I ate, maybe.” Lauren shrugs, and before she opens her bedroom door, she prefaces, “My bedroom is kind of messy, so I’m sorry. Didn’t think I’d be having guests.”

“I’m not a guest, I’m your _doctor_ ,” Camila emphasises the medical degree she _doesn’t_ have, “besides, I’m messy as fuck, I don’t care what your room looks like.”

Turns out Lauren’s definition of messy definitely varies from Camila’s. In fact, Lauren’s bedroom looks the way _Camila’s_ looks when she considers it _tidy._ The bed isn’t made, the white sheets rumpled and thrown back, and there are a few dirty socks littering the floor. The black curtains are pulled shut, leaving the room in a semi-darkness, and as Lauren lets go of her arm to get back into bed, Camila announces, “this is _not_ messy.”

“Fine, messy for me,” Lauren rolls her eyes, pulling her covers back over herself, her stuffed Nala snuggled into her arms, “anyway, _doctor_ …”

“Oh, right!” Camila realises she’d come over to take _care_ of Lauren, “do you need anything? A drink? A snack?”

“Ginger ale. My mom always makes me drink it when I’m sick. There’s some cans of it in the fridge. Help yourself to anything you want.” Lauren says, resting her head on her pillows as she lies down. “If you can make the room stop spinning, that’d be appreciated too.”

Camila frowns. “Don’t you want anything to eat?”

“Afraid I’d bring it back up again,” Lauren comments, and Camila cringes, but masks it pretty well when she remembers what Lauren had said through the speaker. “I saw that! You’re grossed out, get out of my apartment.”

“Too late,” Camila grins, and she nods towards the door, “I’ll go grab you your drink.”

“Thank you,” Lauren rolls over in bed, squeezing her eyes shut, and Camila takes a moment to take a picture of that in her mind, because she looks so cute, all small and bundled up with Nala.

She heads out of the bedroom, and grabs a can of ginger ale from the fridge, as well as a can of coke for herself. She makes her way back towards the room, and she expects Lauren to be asleep, or at least _trying_ to sleep, but instead she’s sat up, her laptop rested on her legs.

“Aren’t you trying to rest?” Camila frowns, passing Lauren her ginger ale. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“Lying down makes the room spin,” Lauren pouts, and pats the spot on her bed next to her. The younger girl smiles, taking a sip from her can of coke, and then placing it on the nightstand by Lauren’s bed as she sits down next to her. Lauren frowns at the way she perches on the edge of the bed, and she pulls the covers back, pouting and saying in her baby voice, “come cuddle.”

Camila practically _melts_ at that. “What happened to _I don’t want to give you anything?”_

“Well, obviously you don’t care about that, or you wouldn’t be here,” Lauren points out, before she fixes her with those _notoriously_ adorable puppy-dog eyes, and Camila can’t resist. “Camz, I could be on my deathbed right now. It’s like, my _dying_ wish to cuddle with you and you’re denying me that.”

“Your deathbed is making you clingy, huh?” Camila teases her, but she gets under the covers with Lauren, and it’s like everything in her just _relaxes_ when Lauren snuggles up to her, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her waist. She’s really warm against her, but it’s more of a clammy kind of warmth rather than the usual kind. “So… how are your other classes?”

Lauren’s expression darkens. “The work is fine. I just don’t like the _people_.”

Camila snorts in amusement. “That’s relatable. The only class I have that I actually talk to someone in is the class I share with you. And you’re the someone I actually talk to.”

“I’m glad you’re my friend,” Lauren murmurs, letting go of Camila with one hand and typing in _netflix.com_ into her browser. When it loads, she passes her laptop to Camila. “I know it sounds stupid, but I feel like you’re the only person around here that actually likes me for me.”

Camila raises her eyebrows in feigned confusion. “Well, what else would I like you for?”

“I- I don’t know,” is Lauren’s feeble response, “um, for my grades. Like, people keep trying to get me to help them with homework and stuff because I’m near the top of the class.”

It’s a stupid excuse, and kind of an obvious lie, but Camila rolls with it. “I mean, I _do_ appreciate you letting me copy your homework from time to time, but I definitely prefer the joys of your company. Plus, you’re obviously really good to cuddle.”

(She’d known that last part already; after Lauren had slept over at her place, the night they’d binged _The Haunting of Hill House_ , she’d woken up to find the older girl practically clinging onto her in her sleep.)

“Pick a show,” Lauren taps her laptop, keeping close to her as Camila browses through the numerous titles, “Apologies in advance if you get whatever I have. But honestly I think it’s just food poisoning. I couldn’t be bothered to cook last night and I tried takeout from somewhere I’ve never been before.”

Almost as if she’s sick at the thought, Lauren shudders, and Camila pulls the blankets further up. “Are you cold?”

“Mhm,” Lauren mumbles, snuggling her face into Camila’s neck, “freezing.”

“You don’t feel freezing,” Camila says, and like her mami always did when she was little, she puts the back of her hand against Lauren’s forehead. She’s searing hot. “You’re really hot. In both senses of the word.”

Lauren blushes, but snuggles into her. “Shut up, I look like trash right now.”

“You look perfectly fine,” Camila assures her, finally settling on an episode of _Friends_ and pressing play. “Maybe you should try getting some rest.”

Lauren yawns at the mention of _rest_. “You don’t mind?”

“As your _doctor_ , it’s an order,” Camila says, but she passes Lauren her can of ginger ale from the nightstand and makes her take a few sips. “Get a little bit of sugar in your system. Maybe when you wake up you could have something to eat. Like… like some bread or something. Something plain.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Lauren nods, closing her eyes, but when Camila pauses _Friends_ to let her sleep, she opens them again, “no, no, play it, I’m listening.”

“Alright,” Camila plays it again, and wraps her arms around Lauren, tracing patterns up and down her bare upper arm under the covers. Lauren sighs happily, and it’s one of those moments where it really _hits_ Camila that she’s snuggling with the woman who not three months ago she considered her idol and an unattainable celebrity crush.

It doesn’t take long for Lauren to fall asleep, and Camila can tell she _is_ , because her whole body relaxes in Camila’s arms, and she snuggles even closer to her, as if that’s even possible. Camila takes to playing with her hair, running her hands through the soft raven locks, and wondering how this even happened. It all seems way too surreal.

When she’s one hundred percent certain that Lauren is asleep, she murmurs, “I kind of adore you, you know,” and kisses the top of her head. Lauren shifts in her sleep, and her face ends up pressed against Camila’s neck, and the faint touch of her plump lips against the skin of her neck is almost enough to send Camila crazy. Lauren’s hand clutches her shirt, holding a fistful of the fabric tight, and Camila takes to tracing patterns against the older girl’s hip where her shirt has ridden up.

She decides not to think about how complicated things are, how they’re both lying to each other, and how bad it could be if Lauren finds that out. Instead, she thinks about how she wants to stay like this forever, just holding Lauren in her arms. This part _isn’t_ complicated. It’s just… _right._

Lauren

She wakes up alone.

Blinking sleep out of her eyes, and cringing at just how horribly queasy she feels, she looks around her bedroom. Camila is gone, but the space in the bed next to her is still warm, and her laptop is still open and on charge.

Stupidly, like the younger girl had magically made herself invisible, Lauren murmurs, “Camz…” as if that’d made her rematerialize. But naturally, nothing happens, and she pushes her covers away, standing up, putting a hand on her nightstand to steady herself.

That’s when her bedroom door opens, and Camila immediately rushes over, putting a mug down on the nightstand and pretty much _putting_ Lauren back into bed. “No, no, don’t get up! You need to rest.”

“I’m fine, I feel better,” Lauren half-heartedly replies, because she really _doesn’t_ feel much better, but she _also_ doesn’t feel like she’s going to throw up again. “Where were you?”

“I made you some tea,” Camila gestures to the mug she’d put down, “I found green tea in your cupboards, so…”

“Oh,” Lauren blinks, her stomach flipping at just how considerate Camila is, “thanks, Camz.”

“You’re welcome,” Camila smiles, sitting down next to her on the bed. She reaches across, grabs the mug, and passes it to her. “Are you seriously feeling better?”

“Well, not really, but I don’t think I’m going to puke again,” Lauren says, “which is good, because I’d rather not completely gross you out.”

“I already promised I wouldn’t be grossed out. Besides, as a certified surgeon, I most definitely see worse stuff on a daily basis,” Camila jokes, and Lauren laughs politely, taking a sip of her tea, “I’ll probably skip class tomorrow if you’re not in college. So… thanks in advance for the day off, Lo.”

Lauren rolls her eyes, “you should go either way. I’ll need to borrow your notes to catch up.”

Camila lets out a long, dramatic sigh, but she’s smiling. “God, first I’m here taking care of your every whim, and _now_ I’m going to _class_ for you. The things I do…”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, and even though she’s all gross and sickly, she _really_ wants to kiss her. She won’t; she knows Camila flirts with her sometimes, but it’s mostly a joke, and she wouldn’t feel _right_ kissing her without telling her the truth. But then she _doesn’t_ want to tell her in case Camila reacts weirdly to it.

Camila takes her hand as Lauren sips her tea, and Lauren asks, “so you’ll go to class?”

“I’ll go to class.” Camila confirms, flashing her a small smile, “but _only_ for you. Not because I care about my education or anything.”

Lauren laughs at the sarcasm, and puts her mug down on her nightstand, yawning again. “Sorry, I’m kind of groggy.”

“No worries,” Camila smiles, “you think you’re ready to eat something?”

“Sure,” Lauren shrugs, and she lets Camila help her up from the bed, her heart racing when the younger girl loops her arm through Lauren’s, “Nothing much, though. Maybe some toast?”

“Alright, one slice of toast coming up,” Camila smiles, sitting her down on the couch. “I’m _also_ a qualified chef as well as a doctor.”

“You’re so multitalented,” Lauren jokes, “I can’t believe I’m in the presence of an overly qualified goddess.”

“Wow, love being a _goddess,”_ Camila laughs as she heads for the kitchen. Lauren points her to where she keeps the bread, and she watches as Camila puts it in the toaster, and she finds herself almost _yearning_. She wishes that this was her reality all the time; not the food poisoning, obviously, but having someone here. Having _Camila_ here.

Even just the _sound_ of someone else in the room, of someone in the kitchen preparing food, that’s comforting to her. They’re not even talking, but she’s comforted just by Camila’s presence.

She tries not to overthink it, and she swallows the words in her throat. _Go out with me. Hey, I’m kind of crushing on you and I really want to take you out on a date. Oh, also, I’ve been acting on a TV show for almost four years of my life, surprise! Here’s the link to my verified Twitter and Instagram accounts!_

The first half, she ignores. She can’t ask Camila out if she’s not telling her the whole truth, and the impossibility of being able to date her is crushing her almost as much as her crush on Camila is.

It’s a moment of pure impulsivity that makes her say, “hey, Camz, if I… if I told you something, would you promise not to treat me differently?”

Camila frowns, jumping slightly as the toast pops up. She puts it back into the toaster and crosses to the fridge for some butter, finding a plate by the sink that Lauren had washed up the night before. “Of course. What’s up?”

“I- um,” chickening out, as always, Lauren shakes her head and fakes a smile, “nothing, I just… I felt like that would be the case, is all. Just wanted to make sure that there’s nothing- um, nothing that would compromise our friendship.”

It’s a shitty excuse, but Camila takes her words at face value, “Of course nothing would. Unless you were like, a literal serial killer on the run. Then _maybe_ I’d have to turn you in. But I’d still be your _friend._ I’d write you letters in prison.”

Lauren laughs at the joke, the words _well, listen, I’m on this TV show,_ stuck in her throat. She bites them back, and when Camila brings her toast over to her, she thanks her and internally chastises herself. _I’ll tell her eventually,_ Lauren decides, _when it feels right._

The thing is, she doesn’t know if it ever _will_ feel right.


	9. Chapter 9

Lauren

“What do you mean you need me to come back to L.A.?”

 _“We need to do some reshoots of a couple of your scenes, and we’re also filming a lot of the behind the scenes interviews and commentary for the DVD,”_ one of the _Silverhollow_ producers tells her, and she sounds a little desperate. “ _A lot of the fans will be upset if you’re not in any of the bonus DVD content._ ”

 _And that’s supposed to be my problem?_ Lauren thinks to herself, but instead, she sighs, running a hand through her hair as she paces across her apartment. “I don’t know. I’ve only been here like two months, I can’t start cutting class when it’s only _October_. I wanted to do this year right, take a break from it all.”

The producer sounds a little exasperated in her response. _“We understand that, but under your contract-”_

“My contract expired when I wrapped. Which I _did_.” Lauren argues, snapping when they try to _guilt_ her into it. “I have obligations here. And it’s not like I’m not going to be in the behind the scenes stuff, if I recall correctly you have a blooper reel _and_ I’m sure plenty of cameras were shoved in my face when I was trying to take a break between scenes.”

“ _It’ll take a week at the most,”_ the producer almost promises, “ _it wouldn’t be long, but it’s important that you’re here. And if we’re being technical with it, you haven’t finished shooting until you complete the DVD extras that all the main cast members are involved with.”_

“What’re you going to do? Come up to Stanford and drag me back to L.A. by my hair?” Lauren sarcastically retorts. “I was told I wrapped. I had a goodbye party. Then I left. We’re done here.”

She hears the producer’s frantic, “ _Lauren, please,”_ but she hangs up anyway, flopping back onto the couch. She lets out an irritated scream into a pillow, completely sick of this kind of thing. She was _done. Finished_. She knows she can’t give in; if she goes back now, they’ll try to get her back for more things, until she’s sucked into filming season four and balancing her final year of university. She can’t do it anymore; it was too stressful, and even though acting is the only thing she’s ever genuinely loved to do, the consequences of being on the show had done nothing but made her life hell.

She just wants to get through college and _not_ think about her acting career. If she even wants to continue with it; she’s still not sure on that. It’s not that she doesn’t love it anymore – she _does_ , and completely losing herself in a character is honestly like therapy to her and being away from has left a hole in her chest – but she can’t stand the spotlight. If only she could pull a _Hannah Montana_ ; it’s the _fans_ that ruined it for her, the horrible invasive ones who bullied her into a fucking _anxiety_ disorder, but the nice ones are too few and far between for Lauren to feel anything but resentment towards them.

She picks her phone up again, and immediately dials Camila’s number. She hopes she’s not busy; she could really use a pick-me-up, and even if she can’t exactly tell Camila what’s wrong, she finds that being in the younger girl’s presence just makes her _happy_.

(And _not_ because of her huge crush, thank you very much.)

Camila is just _easy_ to be around.

“ _Hi,”_ Camila picks up her phone, “ _wasn’t expecting a call, figured it was my mom since she’s legit the only person who ever calls me.”_

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I like to call people,” Lauren tries to act cool, but _now_ she feels awkward and uncomfortable, worried if it’s _weird_ that she called, hating the stupid anxiety for making her constantly second guess herself. “Are you doing anything right now?”

“ _Absolutely nothing_ ,” Camila replies, and Lauren feels relief, “ _do you want to come over? I have the house to myself for a little while, since Ally’s out at her boyfriend’s and Normani and Dinah are… somewhere. I was thinking about baking some cookies and could definitely use adult supervision.”_

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes?” Lauren says it like she’s not certain, even though she’s already getting up and grabbing her car keys. “And I’m definitely down to bake cookies with you.”

“ _Nice,”_ Lauren can practically _hear_ Camila’s smile, _“see you soon, Lo!”_

“See you soon,” Lauren murmurs, and when she hangs up, she lets out a happy little sigh and practically hugs the phone to her chest. “Don’t screw this up, Jauregui. Be cool.”

Finally tucking her phone into her pocket, she turns her car keys over in the palm of her hand, and considers not driving there, wondering if she should get an Uber instead. If a college student shows up driving a _Tesla_ , it would obviously ring some kind of alarm bell. Camila will ask questions, and Lauren won’t know what to say. Certainly not the _truth_. _Oh, I bought it with my salary as an actor on a successful TV show, here’s the DVD boxset, surprise!_

She decides against the Uber, and as she locks up her apartment and gets the elevator to her building’s parking garage, the guilt builds in her stomach. She’d feel _dirtier_ sneaking around and parking her car on a different street, and instead she’s decided to just park outside Camila’s house and hope she doesn’t ask about her car. If she asks, Lauren knows she won’t have the guts to lie, especially not to someone she likes so much. She’ll _have_ to tell her.

(That’d be one way to stop her from chickening out like she always does.)

When the elevator dings, she gets out and heads over to her car, trying to ignore the way she feels sick to her stomach. _Please don’t ask_ , she thinks to herself as she gets in and starts it up, plugging her phone into the aux and playing some of The 1975’s slower songs to calm herself down.

She drives to Camila’s place, and tries not to think about how she’ll _have_ to tell Camila the truth if she asks. Deep down, she knows Camila wouldn’t be weird about it; she knows Lauren enough to just see her as her friend, not some celebrity. Even if Lauren admitted that she had a platform, Camila wouldn’t be weird about it, right?

She feels like she’s walking to the executioner’s block when she parks outside of Camila’s house, and gets out of her car. She puts her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, along with her car keys once she locks it, and she walks up to Camila’s front door. Knocking lightly, she tries to ignore how sick and anxious she feels, and when the door swings open she feels like she’s going to puke.

But Camila just sends her a bright smile, stepping aside to let her in. “Hey! I found a box cookie mix in the cupboard, so we’re making that since I’m _definitely_ not talented to make it from scratch.”

Lauren blinks in surprise, and she realises she’s lingering on the doorstep when Camila’s words sink in. No comment on her car, no questioning on why the fuck she’s not driving some old beat up car, which she _was_ until her old Ford she’d been driving since sixteen had literally fallen apart and died and she _had_ to buy a new car.

“Okay.” She forces a smile, and when she steps inside, Camila seems to notice how nervous she is. “Sounds good.”

“Are you alright?” Camila asks her, and Lauren forces herself to nod. Instead of accepting her answer, Camila pushes a little more. “Are you sure? You seem really nervous.”

“I’m okay.” Lauren says, slipping off her shoes and trying to relax. _She didn’t ask, you’re fine. She didn’t even_ look _at your car._ “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but…” Camila looks her over, seems to decide she’s _not_ okay, and wraps her in a tight hug, “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk, and I’m definitely here to give you all the hugs you need.”

Lauren hugs her back, snuggling her face into Camila’s neck, appreciating the embrace so much. Camila never wants anything from her; she never pressures her, she never asks her to get things for her, and she _always_ is just so caring. It makes her fall for her even more.

“Thank you,” Lauren murmurs, before she finally breaks away, already missing the comfort of Camila’s hug. “Anyway, these cookies?”

“Oh, yeah, I found a Betty Crocker mix in the cupboard,” Camila announces, and she grabs Lauren’s hand, tugging her towards the kitchen. “So we’re making them. I _also_ want to try and separate the mix into like, four different bowls and then add a little bit of food colouring to each. Make rainbow cookies! And anyone who eats them will magically transform into a flaming homosexual.”

Lauren snorts in amusement, “build a time machine and try to give one to seventeen year old Lauren. See how fast she runs when it comes to the risk of _catching the gay._ Even though she already kind of had the gay.”

“I bet it’s funny to look back on,” Camila replies, digging into the cupboard for a bowl, “I think I’d laugh at my own _look how straight I am_ phase if I’d had one.”

 _And mine was public, in front of millions of people,_ Lauren almost rolls her eyes at herself. She can’t believe how obsessive she used to be about it, emphasising the fact that she was _straight_ in real life in every interview just because she wanted to be left alone. If anything, it just egged the fans on even more.

“It’s definitely more embarrassing than funny,” Lauren admits, “because of that whole phase, people were either _incredibly_ shocked _or_ not surprised at all when I told them I was bisexual. Literally no in between.”

“Well, I _still_ admire the way you came out to me. Coming out in a _joke_ is literally the best way to do it.” Camila puts a bowl on the counter and drops four different little food colouring bottles down next to it. She grabs the box and reads the back of it. “Okay, we need… half a stick of softened butter and _one_ egg. I’ll let you handle the egg since I’ll probably drop it.”

“Alright,” Lauren heads over to the fridge and gets an egg out, passing Camila the butter and letting her deal with that. She occupies herself by grabbing the box and pouring the dry cookie mix into the big bowl. “Shall I crack the egg now?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods, putting the butter in a little bowl and putting it in the microwave. “Do you think ten seconds is too much?”

“Do it for five and if that doesn’t work, do it for another five.” Lauren suggests as she cracks the egg into the bowl. A few moments later, Camila brings the butter over and dumps it unceremoniously into the bowl. Then, the younger girl holds out a wooden spoon, looking at her expectantly. “Alright, fine, I’ll stir.”

“I don’t have the physical strength for that, since I obviously don’t go to the gym or anything,” Camila laughs, “do you? You mentioned that you hadn’t joined a gym up here yet, but…”

“Yeah, I have now,” Lauren replies; not that she’s _gone_ that much, since exercise like that isn’t her favourite thing. She’d loved softball and track in high school, but that was because of the whole competitive element; it made it _fun_ , rather than something she had to do to stay healthy. The only thing she gets out of running on a treadmill is _not_ feeling guilty when she immediately cracks open a jar of salsa and bag of tortilla chips once she gets home. “I only go so I don’t have to feel guilty about snacking.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t go. Embrace the snacks!” Camila laughs, watching as Lauren stirs the mixture until it starts to get smooth. Then she pours the bag of chocolate chips in, and Lauren mixes them up. “Nothing wrong with candy.”

“Not so much candy. More like chips and popcorn,” Lauren shrugs, but what she _really_ wants to say is how she _has_ to stay in shape or she’ll be called names by the people who are supposed to be her supporters. It’s happened to her already; she’d gained a little stress weight over the years and supposed _fans_ loved to point that out. That’s one thing the media loves to do to women in the public eye as well; if someone gains even five pounds, it’s a _headline_ and something to be _punished_ , even though it doesn’t matter how someone looks, as long as they’re happy and healthy.

It’s fucking ridiculous, and another thing Lauren hates about Hollywood. Just another reason to add to the multitude of justifications as to why she left, and why she isn’t sure she wants to go back.

“Alright, that’s good, thank you for being my wonderful kitchen assistant,” Camila grins, grabbing four smaller bowls from the cupboard. “This is where it could all go wrong.”

“So I’m your _assistant_ , not your _co-chef?_ ” Lauren jokes, acting offended. “Fuck you, Camz.”

“You’d like to do that,” Camila retorts, and when Lauren obviously blushes, she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Anyway, _co-chef_ – yes you’ve been promoted – separate the mixture into four bowls. I can’t do it because I’ll probably just drop it all over the counter.”

Lauren rolls her eyes, but separates the cookie dough into the bowls, making sure there’s an equal amount in each. “Are you sure you’re on my skill level? Maybe _I_ should be head chef and _you_ should be kitchen assistant.”

“Um, _I_ provided the kitchen _and_ the cookie mix,” Camila rolls her eyes, “I’m barking out the orders, too. You’re demoted again, _assistant_.”

“Hey, no, unfair,” Lauren plays along, shoving her lightly, “I worked hard for my promotion, you can’t just rip it away.”

“I can do what I want, _I’m_ head chef,” Camila sticks her tongue out mockingly, “now you’re demoted even _more_ for talking back. Have fun stuck on washing up duty.”

“Hey, no, your house, your dishes!” Lauren reasons, using her finger to scrape some of the remaining cookie dough from the big bowl and trying it. When Camila looks at her, completely unimpressed, she smiles sheepishly. “I’m checking for poison.”

“That’s _my_ job,” Camila gives her a playful shove and snatches the bowl from her, eating some of the remaining cookie dough herself. “And it’s _not_ because I’m just greedy and want all the cookie dough to myself, it’s obviously because I care about your wellbeing.”

Lauren snorts in amusement, grabbing one of the little bottles of food colouring. “Which one am I putting this in?”

“Any,” Camila says, before she looks at the colour and smiles, “Green. Matches your beautiful eyes.”

Lauren’s stomach flutters, and she’s fully aware of how much she’s blushing. “I- um, thank you.”

“Just telling the truth,” Camila smiles, grabbing the red bottle and putting a few drops into one of the four bowls. Lauren mimics her, putting the same amount into another one, and mixing it up to make the dough green. “I’m not sure we even need to do the yellow. I mean, cookies are yellow anyway, right?”

“They’re more… dough coloured,” is Lauren’s lacklustre description, and she picks up the yellow colouring and drops it in anyway, “No, see, it’s brighter.”

“Alright then,” Camila shrugs, colouring the final bowl of dough blue, “okay, I think we have baking paper, because baking is Ally’s favourite pastime, so we won’t have to bother greasing the baking tray.”

“Do you have a rolling pin? And cookie cutters?” Lauren asks, and when Camila looks at her in amusement, she adds, “What? What’s so funny?”

“You’re baking with _me_ , not Ally,” Camila grins, grabbing a baking tray from a cupboard and finding some baking paper. Once she’s done that, she looks at Lauren, adding, “ _this_ is how I do things.”

Then, she grabs a handful of the blue dough and puts it down on the tray in a big blob. Lauren raises her eyebrows. “Won’t it come out all misshapen?”

“Nope, it sort of spreads out and ends up alright,” Camila says, already finishing the blue dough and moving onto the green. “We’ll probably need two trays for it, if you want to get the other one ready.”

Lauren goes into the cupboard she saw Camila go into, and gets out another baking tray, covering it with baking paper before copying Camila and digging into the dough, dropping it onto the tray in weird blobby shapes. Even if they come out looking ridiculous, they’ll still taste the same.

She’s putting the last bit of red dough onto the tray when a bit drops off and lands on her shirt. Pouting, she drops the rest of the dough onto the tray and grabs a little bit of kitchen roll, but she knows it’ll still leave a stain. “Dammit.”

Camila puts the two trays into the oven, and turns around in confusion, before she realises the problem. As she washes her hands, she offers, “Oh. If you want, we can shove that shirt in the laundry right now? It’ll be clean by the time you’re going home.”

“Are you sure?” Lauren asks, washing her own hands off, “I don’t want to burden you.”

“I’m sure,” Camila smiles, setting the timer for their cookies and taking Lauren’s hand; the older girl basically melts at the gesture. “Come on. You can pick _any_ t-shirt from my drawer. I actually have a _The 1975_ t-shirt somewhere, I’m sure you’d like that.”

Lauren frowns. “How’d you know I liked them?”

“Saw you pause one of their songs on your phone when we met up before class,” Camila shrugs, and Lauren basically melts at how considerate and attentive she is. “We should go see them together. Next time they’re in San Francisco, we’ll go and see them.”

“Yeah,” Lauren says, and sucking in any kind of anxiety she has, telling herself to channel the energy she uses on set to play Vanessa; she’s cocky and confident, and if she just doesn’t _think_ , Lauren could be that too. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

Camila looks pleasantly surprised by the words, and when she sends her that soft smile, Lauren almost kisses her then and there. But she holds herself back; _no, you have to tell her about the show first. You need to be honest with her._

Camila squeezes her hand, tugging her out of the kitchen, “Come on, let’s see if we can find this shirt for you.”

The words _can I tell you something_ die in her throat. Instead, she follows Camila upstairs, trying not to feel like such a coward.

Camila

“Okay, the top drawer is for t-shirts,” Camila says as she sits down on her bed, “but alternatively the drawer underneath that is sweaters, if you’re in the mood for that.”

Lauren nods, and as she pulls open the drawer, Camila definitely checks out her ass. “I’m going to need a bigger shirt, you’re smaller than me.”

“Not that much smaller, and besides, I’m kind of jealous of your figure,” Camila shrugs, pushing herself off the bed, “just look around, and honestly… feel free to keep whichever one you choose. I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Lauren replies, and she continues looking through the drawer, pulling out a red crop top, before obviously deciding against it, “hurry, though. My indecisive ass might need your opinion.”

Camila laughs, heading towards the door. “I’ll try my best.”

“What the fuck is this?”

She’s almost out of the door when Lauren speaks again. Camila turns around, completely unaware of Lauren’s upset tone and how she’s so tense. “What’s what?”

Lauren holds out the t-shirt. At first, it just looks like a normal black t-shirt, but then Camila realises. It’s _Silverhollow_ merch. _Silverhollow_ merch that she’d _forgotten_ to hide.

Camila’s mouth works, and she can’t think of a good explanation. _I borrowed it from a friend. It’s not mine, it’s actually a present for someone. Yeah, I just folded it up in my drawer like that to keep it hidden in plain sight._

“I- I,” Camila stammers, and her brain is screaming at her to get _something_ out, but with the way Lauren is staring at her, green eyes blazing with anger, it’s like she’s completely forgotten how to function. “I’m sorry.”

 _Wow, real eloquent_ , Camila thinks to herself, but before she can get anything else out, an explanation or _something_ , Lauren speaks.

“You lied to me.” She’s not shouting, and she sounds calm, but there’s this bitter, angry undertone to it that chills Camila to the bone. “You fucking _lied_ to me.”

“I didn’t!” Camila scrambles to defend herself, “Lauren, I swear, I never intended to hurt you, I just-”

“Doesn’t matter what you intended.” Lauren snaps, throwing the t-shirt aside and pushing past her to get to the door. Instead of just _leaving_ , she whirls around on Camila and asks, “Well, what was it? What did you _want_ from me? Connections? A part on that stupid fucking show? Might as well _ask_ now while you have the chance, because after today, I never want to see you again.”

“I didn’t want anything!” Camila grabs her by the wrist and pulls her back when Lauren rolls her eyes and goes to leave. “I swear, I didn’t want anything from you. _You_ approached _me_ -”

“And you knew if you pretended not to know who I was, you’d get all of the juicy gossip for your little Twitter fan page. Well, go the fuck ahead.” Lauren snaps. “You deceived me, and now you’re making it out like it’s my fault for thinking you were different?”

Camila scoffs. “You _never_ would’ve acknowledged me if I came up to you saying I was a fan, and I didn’t want to bother you! You _always_ approached me, and it’s not like you were entirely honest with me either. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was just another fan, like everyone else. Besides, after you basically told me you fucking hated your fans, how am I supposed to tell you that I was one?”

“How can I not, when people like _you_ basically ruined my fucking life?” Lauren argues, running a hand through her hair, tears shining in her eyes. “I’m so fucking stupid, I can’t believe I _fell_ for this. Go on then. Run to the media, out me to the whole fucking world. Enjoy whatever payment you get.”

“I’m not going to fucking _out_ you!” Camila shouts, because she’s so offended that Lauren would think she’s _capable_ of something like that. “ _God_ , surely you know I wouldn’t do that? You know me!”

“No, I don’t,” Lauren glares at her, and if looks could kill, Camila would be dead ten times over. “I don’t fucking know you at all. You _lied_ , and manipulated me for your own personal fucking gain, because that’s what people like you do. You _always_ want something.”

“I didn’t want anything, I already told you that!” Camila argues, following Lauren out of her bedroom and towards the stairs, “I didn’t say I was a fan because I didn’t want to lose you! It’s not a big deal, just because I knew who you were, it doesn’t mean I care about you any less. Besides, I don’t even _see_ you like that anymore.”

“It’s not even _that_. You fucking lied to me, _knowing_ that I _liked_ the fact you didn’t know,” Lauren bites, “you’re a liar, and a manipulator, and I was stupid enough to think you actually liked me for _me_.”

“I do like you for you! I never treated like you were some celebrity, never put you on a pedestal, and talked to you like I would _anybody_ else.” Camila runs down the stairs after Lauren, grabbing her by the wrist before she can walk out of the door. “Lauren, please. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal, you didn’t tell me who you were either-”

“It’s a big deal because I have fucking _feelings_ for you,” Lauren snaps, “but you just wanted to get something from me. Just like everyone else.”

She storms out of the door before Camila can say anything, defend herself in any kind of way. As she watches her jump into her car and drive away, Camila feels her heart shatter into thousands of pieces.

Lauren

“About those DVD extras?” She says, trying to conceal the way her voice is shaking as she throws clothes into a bag. “I’ll do it. I’m driving down to L.A. now.”

Before the producers can say anything else, she hangs up on them and calls Lucy. She picks up on the first ring. “ _Hey, how is-”_

 _“_ I need to crash at your place for a little while. I’m coming back to L.A. for those reshoots and the DVD content.” Lauren announces, zipping up her bag and hauling it onto her shoulder. She grabs her car keys and her apartment keys on her way towards the door. “Is that okay?”

 _“Sure, but I think the more important question is are_ you _okay?”_ Lucy asks. _“Because you sound a little upset.”_

“Tell you when I get there,” is Lauren’s short response, “see you in five hours.”


	10. Chapter 10

Lauren

It feels like both the longest and the shortest drive of her life.

She knows she probably shouldn’t have driven here; a flight would’ve been safer, but she couldn’t stand the idea of getting photographed at the airport when she’s in this kind of state. Her tears blur her vision, and her car seems like it’s going _five_ miles per hour, no matter how fast she pushes it, how far she drives. She doesn’t feel any further away from Camila.

She doesn’t know how she gets to Lucy’s in one piece. One minute, she’s throwing a bag into her car and driving away from her apartment, and the next, she’s pulling up in a parking space in Lucy’s building’s parking garage, sprinting to the elevators and hammering on the door of the older girl’s apartment.

When she opens it, Lucy pulls her into a hug, and she’s surprised when a third person joins them. Not caring, crying into Lucy’s shoulder, she tries to ignore how sick she feels, but she’s honestly scared she’s going to throw up.

“Not sure why we’re hugging like this, but hey,” she finally identifies Vero’s voice, and when she pulls out of the hug, she basically throws herself onto the other girl. “Whoa, okay, are you alright?”

She shakes her head, and she feels Lucy rub comforting circles into her back before she pries her bag away from her and takes it somewhere; Lauren doesn’t care where, all she can think about is how _hurt_ and just plain _angry_ she feels.

She lets go of Vero, but she sends her a comforting smile. “Hey, talk to me. What’s up?”

“I- I just- I don’t…” Lauren struggles to get the words out, and she can already feel her throat closing over and the anxiety building in her chest. “Something- something _bad_ …”

“Come on, we’ll go sit down,” Vero takes her hand and leads her over to the couch, and everything already feels so fuzzy, like she’s being held underwater and she can’t _breathe_. She curls up in a ball on the end of the couch, trying to focus on just _breathing_ , not how Camila had lied, how Camila will tell everyone that she’s ungrateful, that she hates her fans, when she _doesn’t_ , she just hates _the ones who hurt her_ , the ones who _made_ her like this.

She’s choking on her own breath before she knows it, crying into her hands, and she doesn’t know if it’s Lucy or Vero or _both_ of them holding her, she just knows that she appreciates it, that it helps, that it wraps her up in a safe little bubble and helps her _breathe._

She doesn’t know how long it takes for her to calm down, and she’s not absorbing whatever Lucy and Vero are saying, just focuses on how numb she feels as Lucy rubs her arm comfortingly.

“What happened?” Lucy asks. “You know you shouldn’t have driven here like this, you could’ve gotten yourself _killed_ -”

“Babe, leave that for when she’s calmed down,” Vero cuts her off, “did something happen up at college?”

Lauren feels sick at the thought, and she _somehow_ manages to form a word, “ _Camila_ …”      

Vero looks totally baffled by the name, because she has no idea who Camila is. Lucy whispers something to her, and Vero lets out an _ah_ in understanding, before she turns to Lauren and takes her hand. “What happened with Camila, Lo?”

“She- she _lied_ ,” Lauren forces out, trying to push past the anger and betrayal that’s almost pushing her over the edge into panic again. “She knew the _whole_ time, about the show. She fucking _lied_.”

Lucy is one of her best friends, and one of the specific reasons for that is because she _never_ coddles her. Even if Lauren is upset, she tells her how it is, and of course this is no exception. It’s just the one time Lauren _doesn’t_ appreciate it.

“Well, you kind of lied to her too,” Lucy points out, and Lauren looks up, shooting her the angriest glare she can muster. “You didn’t tell her about the show, so maybe she just took it as something you didn’t want to talk about. Doesn’t it show that she _is_ different to everyone else? She knew and she still didn’t treat you differently.”

“There- there’s a _difference_ between not treating me differently and actively _lying_ and pretending she didn’t know who I was!” Lauren snaps, pushing Lucy away and stalking towards her old bedroom door; it hasn’t been her bedroom for years, but she still thinks of it that way. “She just- she just wanted to get things out of me, and I was stupid enough to _tell_ her that I’m bisexual, she’s going to _out_ me-”

Lucy grabs her before she can hide away in her old room, “Hey, no, even though you told her, I doubt she’d just out you like that. She’s gay herself, I’m pretty sure it’s only the straights that love outing. She knows what it’s like. You need to _call_ her.”

“No, I don’t, I don’t _owe_ her anything,” Lauren argues, shaking her head, “She lied because- because she was a fan and she wanted to get close to me, just to say she was _friends_ with me, she didn’t even _care_ that I started to- to fall for her.”

Vero and Lucy exchange a look, and it’s Vero who pulls her in for another hug. “Maybe she likes you back. Did you give her a chance to explain herself?”

“I already said I don’t _owe_ her anything, especially not that,” Lauren snaps, pulling away, “you’re supposed to be my _friends_ and you’re defending _her_?”

“We’re trying to help by not _bullshitting_ you,” Lucy tells her, “we’re trying to give you advice on how to fix your situation and feel better.”

“How I’m going to _fix_ my situation is by staying _here_. Fuck college, it was a stupid idea, I’ll just do season four like everyone wants me to do,” Lauren rants, even though that’s the last thing she wants to do. “I can’t see her again.”

Vero looks at Lucy again, and Lauren tries not to get upset at them. _It’s not their fault, it’s Camila’s, she’s the liar_.

Vero makes the suggestion, “Just… let the reshoots and the commentary filming take your mind off it. Maybe once you’d had some time to think…”

“What? I’ll _forgive_ her?” Lauren snorts, because _that’s_ a joke. “I do need time to think, but not about her. She’s- I’m done.”

Vero looks like she’s going to say something, but Lucy cuts her off, “just… go get some sleep, Lo. You’ll need it; we have to be on set by five-thirty.”

“Okay.” Lauren runs a hand through her hair; she hadn’t realised how tired she is. “Okay, yeah, I’m going to go to bed.”

“Shout if you need me,” Lucy promises her, and Lauren just nods wearily, finally traipsing to her old bedroom and flopping down on the bed. She feels so damn _defeated_ , like Camila had _broken up_ with her even though they were never together. No, Lauren was just stupid enough to let a stranger in, and it’d bitten her in the ass.

She quickly strips from the clothes she was wearing; a pair of ripped jeans and the _t-shirt_ that ruined it all, the one she’d dropped cookie dough on. She pulls it off and throws it on the floor, glaring down at it, wishing she’d never found out, because she already _misses_ Camila.

 _No you don’t_ , Lauren tries to convince herself, _she lied and manipulated you, you don’t_ miss _her._ Repeating it, making it her own personal mantra, Lauren quickly changes into pyjamas and snuggles under the covers of her old bed with Nala. She makes the _stupid_ decision of checking her phone; she has what seems like _hundreds_ of texts from Camila, apologising and asking for a chance to explain herself, _then_ progressing to _answer your apartment door please._ She wants to text back, to tell her she’s gone and she’s never coming back, even though she knows she _has_ to go back eventually.

Instead, she opens the texts, ignores them, and blocks Camila’s number. Then, she blocks her on Instagram, from her public and private accounts, and if _that_ doesn’t send a message, Lauren doesn’t know what will. _Listen to Vero, just focus on the reshoots, and then when you go back, maybe it won’t hurt as much_.

But no matter how much she tries to convince herself, she still feels completely and utterly betrayed.

Camila

She doesn’t know why she _expected_ her to be here.

She’s waiting at their usual meeting point, outside the coffee shop they buy their drinks from before they head to class. It’s Wednesday, and even with the way things ended at the weekend, she figured maybe there was the _slimmest_ of chances that Lauren would show up after cooling down. Maybe she’d respond in person to the millions of texts Camila had sent, apologising and asking for a chance to be heard out. But she’s not here.

Camila waits, like an idiot, a caramel latte and a hot chocolate in her hands, but Lauren doesn’t show. She stands there for half an hour; she’d gotten there exceptionally early, and she waits until five minutes before her lecture starts. She finishes off her hot chocolate, and gives the lukewarm latte to a homeless guy as she makes her way to her lecture. Lauren will be _there_ , surely. She wouldn’t skip class just because of an argument. Camila knows she’s a self-proclaimed teacher’s pet.

But when she gets to class, naturally the back row is filled up, but Lauren is nowhere to be seen. She takes a seat in one of the middle rows and waits, staring at the door, hoping that she’ll show up and Camila can somehow wrangle her into sitting next to her, but Lauren doesn’t show. The professor starts his powerpoint up, and Camila feels like crying, wondering where the hell she could be.

Under the desk, she takes out her phone and checks Lauren’s Instagram, discovering a new kind of heartbreak; Lauren had blocked her on both her private account, _ssweetdispositionn,_ and her public account, _laurenjauregui._

Feeling absolutely pathetic, but knowing she has to do it, she switches to her old fan account. Lauren doesn’t know the username, so she’s not blocked. She opens Lauren’s public page, and checks the story update, and it’s so hard to keep her surprise to herself when she’s back on the _Silverhollow_ set, posting videos with Lucy, Keana and Vero.

 _Is that it?_ Camila thinks to herself, _has she just ditched college and gone back to L.A. because of what happened? Did she really mean it, that she never wanted to see me again?_

She watches the story on mute, and while Lauren _looks_ happy, Camila can see the sadness behind her eyes, and that fucking _kills_ her. It tears her apart inside to know that she was the cause of that. Locking her phone, she tries to pay attention to what’s going on in class, but she’s far too focused on trying not to cry, hating herself for how badly she’d fucked up.

 _If you’d just_ told _her, she would’ve had time to process it,_ Camila berates herself, _she couldn’t have accused you of lying if you’d just told her beforehand. But instead she found out the way she did, and that ruined everything._

She’s still reeling from the things Lauren had said. _It’s a big deal because I have fucking feelings for you._ Lauren Jauregui had admitted that she _liked_ her, and it’s all Camila’s fault that she’s not _dating_ her right now. If she’d just said _by the way, I like your show_ , everything could’ve been prevented.

The lecture feels agonisingly long, and she finds herself going straight home, skipping the rest of the day; the only reason she’d gone was to see if Lauren would be there, and she wasn’t. Lauren had gone back to L.A.

When she gets home, her roommates are out, but she doesn’t feel much like talking to anyone anyway. She traipses up to her bedroom, defeated, bundling under her covers and letting the tears fall. She _misses_ Lauren; not _Lauren Jauregui, star of Silverhollow_ , but Lauren her friend, Lauren her _crush_ , misses the way she’s always so cute and blushy when Camila takes her hand or flirts. _You won’t get that again_ , Camila thinks to herself, and the thought makes her cry even more. _She doesn’t want to see you ever again. So much that she’s disappeared off to L.A._

When she starts to cry again, she thinks _fuck it_ , and calls her mom, even though she knows she’s probably at work. She hadn’t told Sinu that the girl she’d made friends with recently, the girl she was _crushing_ on was Lauren Jauregui; mostly because she knew her mom wouldn’t approve of how she was keeping being a _fan_ from her. But that secret is out of the bag now, so nothing matters anymore.

Her mom picks up on the third ring, “ _Hola, mija_.”

“Hi, mami,” Camila sniffles, and when Sinu starts to ask what’s wrong, she blurts it all out, “so, that girl that I told you I liked… I fucked everything up.”

Instead of commenting on her language like she usually would, Sinu tries to reassure her; Camila is sure it’s only because she burst into tears. “What happened, mija? I’m sure it’ll be okay-”

“No, no, it won’t, because- _god_ , this will sound so pathetic,” Camila cries, “remember that- that _show_ I liked? _Silverhollow_? And my favourite actress off it?”

“The one in the posters on your bedroom wall?” Sinu asks, and if anything, that makes Camila feel _worse_. “ _Si?”_

“Well, _she_ was the girl I liked. This is going to sound so stupid and unbelievable, but she started taking classes here, and we shared one, and- and I was _going_ to leave her alone, but she kept approaching me and asking to sit with me because I was the only person who wasn’t _freaking_ out over her being there,” Camila rambles, knowing she’s probably not making any sense, but she feels almost _hysteric_. “So- so I didn’t tell her I was a fan, and she found out and got mad at me and now she’s gone back to L.A. without letting me _explain_. She thinks I just wanted to get something from her, but _really_ I just wanted to be nice, and- and when she _smiled_ , I just wanted that to keep happening, because I’d never seen her smile like that before and- and I went and fucked it all up and hurt her.”

“You should have been honest with her,” Sinu tells her what she already knows, “but she should have let you explain too. Have you called her?”

“My calls won’t go through and she’s ignored all my texts as well as blocked me on Instagram,” Camila sighs, because it’s _hopeless_. It’s been four days; if Lauren hasn’t spoken to her yet, it’s just not going to happen. “And she’s not here, so it’s not like I can go to her apartment and beg her to let me in. Not that she’d let me in anyway.”

“Maybe she needs time,” Sinu suggests, and Camila understands that, but the silence is driving her crazy. “When she gets back from L.A you talk to her. Okay?”

“I doubt it’ll be that easy,” Camila sighs, “and it’s just- at _first_ , it was like _oh my god, Lauren Jauregui wants to be friends with me_ , but then I stopped thinking of her like that. She just started to be _Lauren_ to me. But she still- she thinks I still see her as an _actress_ first and a person second, which isn’t true, but she won’t listen to me when I try to _tell_ her that.”

Again, her mom insists she should give Lauren time, but Camila doesn’t know how to feel about that. What’s the point in giving Lauren time and space if nothing will come from it?

 _Maybe you should just give up_ , Camila thinks to herself, _maybe it’s for the best if you just leave her alone. It’s obviously what she wants._

When she finishes talking to her mom, not feeling better at _all_ about herself or the situation, she goes back onto her old fan account so she can see Lauren’s posts. The private account, _ssweetdispositionn_ is completely locked off, but she can still access the public one. The older girl had posted a selfie with Keana, Vero and Lucy, with the caption _the gang’s back together_ , and if Camila didn’t _know_ her, she would’ve looked at her, saw how happy she was, and liked the picture before moving on. But because she does know her, she sees the sadness and pain behind Lauren’s eyes, and she knows it’s because of _her_.

 _You did that. That just_ proves _that she’s better off without you in her life,_ Camila thinks to herself, _if she’d never met you, she wouldn’t be so sad right now._

But then she thinks about the other things Lauren had said to her. About how she came to college to get away from the pushy, invasive fans who crossed the line when it came to shipping her with Lucy, and who crossed boundaries in general. The thought gives her a small spark of hope; she just needs to _somehow_ prove to Lauren that she wasn’t one of _those fans_.

 _But how do you plan on doing that when she won’t talk to you?_ Camila asks herself, the tiny spark of hope already fading into oblivion. _And if you keep harassing her, she’s going to think you were like that anyway._

Throwing her phone across her bed out of frustration, she desperately tries not to cry again, but it’s so hard. She just has to accept that she can’t do anything, at least not until Lauren comes back from L.A.

 _If_ she comes back from L.A.

Lauren

She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed this, even in the two months she’d supposedly been _wrapped_ for.

The commentary filming is an inconvenience; she _has_ to be herself when she’s doing that, commenting on the scenes and revealing funny behind the scenes stories, or referencing bloopers. She has to be her _fake self,_ the upbeat, happy, always optimistic actress. When the cameras cut, the smile drops from her face; not that it ever reached her eyes anyway. But she doesn’t get much time to think about it, because mostly it’s just a quick break for makeup touch ups.

She’d been grouped with Lucy for most of the commentary, because she shares most of her scenes with the older girl. It’s a relief; she doesn’t think she’d be able to do it by herself. For a couple of scenes, she’s paired with Keana, and _that’s_ nice too; it’s always easy to laugh with her, especially when reacting to their scenes together; their characters absolutely hate each other. But there’s still this gaping hole in her chest, and a cripplingly heavy dark cloud weighing on her shoulders.

That’s why it’s such a _relief_ when she’s doing the reshoots. She’s not _herself_ ; she completely immerses herself in Vanessa, so much so that she doesn’t have to think about her real problems, about _Camila_. It’s the most therapeutic week of her life, in that respect.

She spends all of her time either on set or in Lucy’s apartment; she can’t stand going out on the streets, because that reminds her of why she left L.A. in the first place. And because of that, she’s slowly but surely thinking that maybe she _should_ stay here. She wouldn’t have to see Camila again. She could email the dean, ask to go back to online classes, but she knows that once these reshoots are done, table reads and filming for season four won’t start until late April or early May. She’ll have nothing to keep her occupied, unless she tries to book a couple of auditions, which will mean she’ll be constantly focused on all of the _negative_ things that came from her career, with none of the positive.

 _You’d get to be around your best friends all the time, though_ , Lauren reminds herself, _you could move back in with Lucy, or you could see if Keana wants to get a place when her lease is up._

Deep down, she knows it’s not practical. She should finish her senior year of college, graduate with a degree, and _then_ figure everything out. Doing it out of spite just because she doesn’t want to face Camila again isn’t right.

She heads to catering with Lucy after finally finishing one of the scenes they needed to reshoot. They only have two more to go until they’re done, and Lauren is dreading it. Wrapping means she has to go back, and it means she’ll have to face Camila in class.

She fills her plate up, like she’s going to fill the emptiness inside her with mac and cheese, and when she sits down at a table with her friends, she feels at least a little better. Keana puts an arm around her, watching in amusement as Lauren shovels mac and cheese into her mouth. “Hungry?”

“Yep,” Lauren mumbles through a mouthful, clearing her plate in minutes, but _that_ just makes her think of Camila and how fast she eats, and it makes her want to get up for seconds. She doesn’t because she knows she’ll regret it later, and instead just rests her head on Keana’s shoulder, enjoying the half an hour break she gets for lunch.

She catches Lucy filming them for her Instagram story, and manages a weak smile to the camera. She doesn’t think anything of it, not until half an hour later, when she and Lucy are getting their makeup touched up, and the older girl casually mentions, “I got an Instagram DM from Camila.”

Lauren tries her best to seem impassive and uncaring. “Oh. Good for you.”

“She wanted to know if you were alright.” Lucy elaborates, pulling out her phone and reading the message, “ _hey Lucy, I don’t know what Lauren has told you, but please can you let me know if she’s alright? I’ve been calling and texting but nothing is going through and she’s blocked me on Instagram, I just want to know how she is. Please tell her that I’m sorry, and I’ll talk to her when she’s ready.”_

Lauren scoffs. “Tell her to fuck off.”

“Tell her yourself, if you really want to make things worse,” Lucy retorts, “you need to talk to her. Even if it’s just to get some kind of closure. I know you, Lo, and I can tell you care about her. She hurt you, yeah, nobody is denying that, but you need to talk to her.”

Endlessly stubborn, Lauren shakes her head, and when her makeup artist tells her she’s good to go, she gets up and sends Lucy her best _professional_ smile. “I’ll see you on the set.”

“You’re being ridiculous!” Lucy calls after her. “You need to talk to her.”

Deep down, she knows that Lucy is right, and that she won’t ever be able to get over Camila if she’s got all these unresolved feelings, but on the surface, all she feels is anger and betrayal towards the younger girl, as well as those _stupid_ fluttery feelings she gets every time she thinks about her.

She thinks that’s what she hates the most; the fact that no matter how hard she tries, she can’t feel anything _less_ than adoration for Camila Cabello.


	11. Chapter 11

Lauren

When she finally gets back to her lonely apartment just off campus, everything she’s been avoiding seems to come crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. There’s a note on the floor, and she recognises Camila’s messy scrawl, but she doesn’t bother to read it. She throws it in her recycling bin, and then flops down onto the couch. Tomorrow, she knows she’ll have to face Camila.

Tomorrow is Wednesday. The day they usually meet for drinks before class, and then go for lunch. Their _routine_. It’s the day she _used_ to look forward to the most; even if everything else sucked, if everyone _else_ stared at her like she's some three-headed monster, at least Camila _didn’t_ , because she didn’t _know_. Or so she was dumb enough to believe.

She hates her life, hates that she can’t trust anyone new. They could be some kind of crazy stalker, a threat to her wellbeing; being a public figure, you’re forced to meet fans all the time, and she knows _nothing_ about these people. One angry fan, and that could be the end of her. Bodyguards aren’t superhuman, and all it would take is one angry person with a grudge and some kind of weapon.

The novelty of fame wore off extremely fast; she doesn’t care about celebrities, doesn’t care about attending movie premieres or award shows, and the last thing she _ever_ wanted was to have _fans._ Now, instead of thinking about some of the minimal perks, i.e. the occasional free lunch in exchange for a picture, all the idea of fame does is terrify her. She hates it; all she wanted was to act, to be able to turn her passion into a _career_ , but when she’d done it, everything _else_ sucked, and she hates that she had to leave the show to get away from it all.

The fans had taken her privacy, they’d taken her freedom, and now they’ve taken her passion.

She tries to push down that sense of dread, but nothing works, and she feels the panic rising. Trying her best to control her breathing, she calls Lucy, even though she doesn’t _deserve_ her friend’s help right now. She’d rejected basically any idea Lucy had had, because most of them involved talking to Camila. Keana had told her to do what she felt was best, and Vero wasn’t much help at all; she’d suggested _sleeping_ with Camila to get her out of her system, which is probably the worst idea she’s ever had. Lauren had also called Alexa from set, even though she felt bad bothering her, since she has her own problems to deal with on top of her schoolwork. But _all_ her friends are telling her to talk to Camila, and Lauren doesn’t think she can handle that.

When Lucy picks up, Lauren doesn’t bother with _hellos_. Instead, she blurts out, “please talk to me,” and Lucy obliges.

The older girl hums in thought. _“Well, not much has changed in the five hours since you left, but I had a really nice sandwich, I could tell you about that…”_

“Why do you think I should talk to Camila?” Lauren blurts out, hating herself for even asking. She doesn’t _want_ to, but she _also_ doesn’t feel any better than she did the moment after she realised she’d been _lied_ to. The only time she _had_ felt better was when they were reshooting the scenes, and she wasn’t Lauren Jauregui anymore, she was Vanessa Ramirez. “Why should I- why should I talk to her?”

 _“Because it’s obviously tearing you up, and she’s giving you the opportunity,”_ Lucy replies, _“even if you don’t want to forgive her, you can still hear her out and get some kind of closure. But honestly, Lo, I think you_ should _forgive her. It’s not like you’re some innocent victim in all of this. You lied too.”_

“How can I _lie_ about something she already knew?” Lauren pathetically defends herself. “That’s like- that’s like me not talking to my _brother_ about the show. Chris still already knows, just because I’m not talking about it doesn’t make it a _lie_.”

 _“You lied too,”_ Lucy firmly repeats, and if anything, this is making her feel _worse_ , _“and doesn’t it show her character? Even though she knew, she still treated you like a normal person. She never freaked out at you. She didn’t freak out at me, either. That’s what you liked, not the_ _fact that she didn’t know about the show, but the fact that she treated you normally.”_

“Even though- even though she probably knew stuff about me, like some kind of _stalker_ ,” Lauren rants, “ _god_ , she probably sat there listening to me talk, thinking _I know all of this already_.”

 _“And she didn’t act weird about it. She let you tell your stories and treated you like a normal person.”_ Lucy retorts, and while Lauren knows she’s talking some sense, it still doesn’t feel _right. “And even if she was a big fan, you should at least let her explain herself, and let her tell you_ why _she didn’t tell you she was a fan. I can probably guarantee you that it’s not because she’s a stalker.”_

“She knows where I _live_ ,” Lauren realises, glancing at the trash can where she’d tossed the note, “ _god_ , a fan knows where I live. What if she leaks my address? And what- she _asked_ me, that night she met you, she asked me if we were together. What if she was one of the ones who- who freaked me out so much and- and made me such a fucking _mess_?”

“ _Do you really believe that?”_ Lucy questions her, and deep down, Lauren knows she _doesn’t_ , but it’s hard to put her trust into someone who had lied to her. “ _Talk to her. Let her tell you her side of the story before you start freaking out at her even more than you already have.”_

Lauren sighs. “You still haven’t told me why I should give her that chance when she _manipulated_ me-”

“ _Because you don’t know that she manipulated you. How is it manipulative? All she did was treat you like an actual person. Sure, she left out that she was a fan of the show, but_ you _left out that you were on the show. You both lied to each other.”_ Lucy answers. _“You don’t know what kind of fan she was, and you have no proof that she was just hanging out with you to get information from you. Has she told anyone your address, or outed you to the media? No, she hasn’t.”_

 _She’s right_ , rational, inner Lauren tells her, but she ignores that voice, and just sighs in response. “I’m just so _mad_ at her.”

Lucy hums in agreement. “ _You have a right to feel hurt and betrayed, but completely blanking someone who obviously cares about you just because they fucked up isn’t cool either.”_

“Why are you even defending her?” Lauren asks, still totally confused on that. Lucy is _her_ friend, not Camila’s. “What’s in it for you?”

“ _Nothing’s in it for me. She seemed cool when I met her,”_ Lucy explains, _“and I saw how happy she made you. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years, and if you can have someone in your life who does that for you, I’m not going to let your dumb ass fuck it up.”_

“You know what the worst part is?” Lauren mumbles. “I still- I still kind of adore her, even after _everything_. That’s why I’m so mad, because I’m still fucking _crushing_ on her, even though she- _ugh._ ”

Lucy laughs. “ _Then listen to the part of you that adores her, and go talk to her.”_

“I still don’t know if I want to,” Lauren huffs, looking over at the clock. It’s almost midnight. “I’m too tired after driving. I guess I’ll just… face her tomorrow in class.”

 _“Try not to be too mean_ ,” Lucy jokes, “ _I know how you can be when you’re mad._ ”

“No promises,” Lauren replies, and it’s mostly a joke, “Goodnight.”

“ _Goodnight, Lo,”_ Lucy responds, and she hears Vero in the background, shouting goodnight as well. As she hangs up her phone, she thinks about tomorrow, and she has no idea what she’s going to do.

Camila

She doesn’t show up at the coffee shop again, and Camila feels even dumber for buying another caramel latte for her. She should’ve known she’d be a no-show; she’s in _L.A._ , for god’s sake. She’s five hours away, and yet Camila still thought that maybe she’d show up, maybe she’d come running towards her, apologising for the way she’d reacted and forgiving her for concealing the truth. But she doesn’t. She stands outside the coffee shop like an idiot for fifteen minutes, before she walks to her lecture hall.

She’s so caught up in her dismay that she almost doesn’t notice her.

Lauren is sat midway, tapping at the keys on her laptop, and Camila stops in her tracks. She’s already past the row that Lauren is sat on, but she backtracks and dodges past a few of her classmates to get in next to her. She puts the latte in front of her, but Lauren completely blanks her.

“I- I waited at the coffee shop for you, this week and last week.” Camila says, carefully taking the seat next to her. “Don’t really know why I did it this week, because I thought you were in L.A., but… I guess you’re back now.”

Lauren continues to ignore her, but when she closes her laptop with a sigh and goes to put it into her backpack, Camila grabs her wrist, “Hey, wait-”

“Sorry, did you want my _autograph_ or something?” Lauren bites out, pulling out of her grip and packing her things away, obviously trying to move seats, “I’m a little too busy for fans right now.”

“We both know I’m more to you than that,” Camila tries to stop her, but when Lauren immediately moves to the next row, leaving the latte behind, Camila grabs it and follows her, “ _Lauren_ , please, just _talk_ to me.”

“Am I going to have to tell the professor that I can’t work efficiently because of a fan?” Lauren still won’t look at her. “Take your coffee, I don’t want it. Leave me alone.”

When the professor comes in, Camila knows Lauren won’t make a scene, so she parks herself in the seat right next to her, pushing the latte towards her. “It’s yours. Just- meet me at the café for lunch. I’ll buy and we can talk everything over _civilly_. _Please_ just give me a chance to explain myself, and after that… if you still never want to see me again, I’ll respect that. I promise. Just give me a chance first.”

“What part of leave me alone don’t you people understand?” Lauren snarls under her breath, and when the professor starts talking, she effectively blanks Camila, leaving the coffee to go cold.

She ignores her for the whole lecture, and when it’s finally over, Lauren practically throws her things into her backpack in an effort to get away from Camila, but she’s sandwiched between Camila on one side and ten other students packing their things away on the other.

 _Forced_ to talk to her, she mutters, “Can I get through, please?”

“Only if you’ll meet me for lunch and let me explain,” Camila decides, casually packing away her things, even though she has a class to get to. “I told you, I’ll respect it if you want me to leave you alone, _after_ you’ve given me a chance to explain.”

Lauren looks to her right, at the other students, and announces, “guess I’ll wait, then.”

Camila sighs. “You’re not being fair.”

 _That_ gets her attention. “Oh, like you were fair to me when you were honest with me and told me that you were a fan of the show? You reap what you sow.”

“ _You_ lied too.” Camila rolls her eyes. “You’re just as in the wrong as I am. Maybe I should’ve just come up to you screaming about how you were my favourite actress. Sorry for trying to treat you like a real fucking _person._ ”

She grabs her backpack and stalks out of the lecture hall, away from Lauren, away from the constant apologies. If she’s going to be such a _bitch_ about it, then Camila won’t bother. She’s done with grovelling and trying to say her piece; it’s obvious that Lauren just doesn’t care.

Lauren

Usually, at this hour of the day, Lauren doesn’t care about the girl who always manages to sit next to her in this class. Because she’s usually far too excited about the fact that she’s getting lunch with Camila. That’s enough to make her uncaring about the way this supposed _fan_ always treats her, like she’s some kind of alien with five different, equally as fascinating heads, but today, she doesn’t have that distraction. She won’t have it ever again.

The girl who always sits with her had only spoken to her a handful of times, and every single time, without fucking _fail_ , she calls her _Vanessa._ It’s so fucking annoying. And every single week, she’s always wearing the same _Silverhollow_ t-shirt. Incidentally, it’s the same one she found in Camila’s drawer, but it really makes Lauren wonder if she actually _owns_ any other clothing.

She’s mostly ignored the girl; today, she was already sat down elsewhere, but when Lauren had walked into the classroom a little later than she usually does, she’d abandoned the person she was sat with to take the seat next to her. She knows she can’t tell her to just _leave_ her alone, because then she’d definitely go spouting some bullshit on Twitter about how Lauren had _attacked_ her for no reason. In _that_ situation, she’d _definitely_ get her name right.

It’s agonising, trying to ignore the way the girl is looking at her, and it hurts even more when Camila’s words echo in her mind. _Sorry for trying to treat you like a real fucking person._ When she thinks about _that_ , in light of the way this girl is treating her, it makes her heart feel heavy in her chest. Camila pretending not to know is a far better alternative than _this_ , but she still feels so hurt that she’d lied.

When what feels like the longest hour of her life is finally over, and she’s packing up her things, the girl turns to her. “Are you dating Lucy?”

 _Oh, so you can get_ her _name right, but not mine?_ Lauren thinks to herself, holding back her eye roll. “I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not.”

“I wasn’t asking because I ship you,” the girl hastily replies, and Lauren knows a lie when she sees one, “I was asking because I wanted to know if you’d go for a drink with me. As a date. I mean, I know you say you’re straight, but everyone knows you’re not _actually-_ ”

“And you think _saying_ that will make me want to go out with you?” Lauren blinks in surprise, pulling her backpack onto her shoulder. _This is a fan_ , she reminds herself, _no matter how disrespectful she is, you can’t snap at her or she’ll try to slander you._ “No thank you. I have plans.”

She doesn’t, but this girl doesn’t need to _know_ that. But instead of respecting that, the girl tries to persuade her even more, “come _on_ , Vanessa. Just one little coffee date?”

That pushes her already fragile mood completely over the edge, “My name is _Lauren._ And I said no thank you.”

“Everyone said you were a bitch in real life,” the girl rolls her eyes, “I guess I’m stupid for not believing them.”

She’s so _frustrated_ at the words; to people who are respectful, she is respectful back. But when people act like _this_ , not getting her name right and expecting things from her, it’s enough to make her _want_ to lash out. It’s like she’s helpless in these situations; if she sticks up for herself, she’s labelled a bitch, but it’s so frustrating to have to deal with people who act like this.

“I have a right to say no when someone asks me out.” Lauren justifies herself, turning towards the door. “Especially when that person can’t even get my name right.”

She doesn’t give the girl a chance to say anything to make her even _more_ upset; instead, she heads out of the classroom, the encounter giving her a real perspective. Camila had never acted like that. Camila _would_ never act like that, and while she’s always known it deep down, she’s finally getting to the proper, surface realisation.

She checks the time on her phone; they usually meet for lunch at this time, and Camila had said she’d be at the café where they get their coffee on a morning. She’d be there, and while Lauren felt ridiculously stubborn and upset this morning, just because of the _impact_ of seeing her after being away, after _that_ encounter, she’s going to hear her out. She could promise that much.

She heads over to the café, keeping her eyes trained on the ground as she walks. She doesn’t take long to get there, and when she walks in, a couple of people stare, but it’s something she can easily block out. She glances around for Camila, and she doesn’t see her anywhere, so she decides to buy a coffee and a sandwich and wait for her at a table.

She heads to the counter, and picks up one of the pre-packaged sandwiches, paying for that and a caramel latte. She keeps glancing around as she waits for her coffee, wondering when Camila is going to come in. She said she’d be here, didn’t she?

Once she’s got her coffee, she sits down in one of the free seats by the window, sipping on it as she waits for Camila to come in. She picks at her food, not that hungry, and she’s actually kind of _grateful_ for the distraction when a fan comes over and asks for a picture. She plays on her phone, glancing up at regular intervals, but when half an hour passes, and she’s finished her sandwich and coffee and Camila _still_ isn’t here, her heart hurts. _She said she’d be here,_ Lauren thinks to herself, _why isn’t she here?_

 _It’s because you were a stubborn asshole this morning,_ Lauren thinks to herself, but the part of her that still feels betrayed that Camila had lied ignores that thought completely, thinking, _you should’ve known you couldn’t trust her._

Shaking her head, she stands up, taking her sandwich wrapper to the garbage can. _I’ll talk to her in class, then._ That seems like the smartest solution. They have a class soon, and Camila will be there. She can sit with her, apologise for this morning, and then they can go somewhere after class and talk. On her way out of the coffee shop, she turns back around and buys a hot chocolate to go. She’ll give it to Camila as a gesture of good faith.

But when she gets to her classroom, Camila isn’t there. Trying not to worry about it, Lauren puts her bag on the seat next to her, saving it for the younger girl, looking up hopefully every time the door opens. But when the door opens and it’s their _professor_ , Lauren’s heart sinks. She really _had_ fucked everything up.

 _Well done, you’ve successfully pushed someone else away,_ Lauren sarcastically congratulates herself, and while she doesn’t really like chocolate, she sips on the drink anyway. But that little voice at the back of her mind provokes her. _You know she only hung out with you because you’re an actress. That’s the only reason anyone ever bothers with you._

Feeling sick because she’s that anxious, Lauren puts her things back into her backpack and raises her hand. “Can I be excused? I don’t feel very well.”

The professor nods in consent, and Lauren quickly makes her way out of the classroom, with one destination in mind.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Lauren

“What’re you doing here?”

Lauren feels like a total fucking _idiot_ standing here. She knows she shouldn’t have come; it’s her general rule of thumb, if she doesn’t feel like she can trust someone, it’s best if she doesn’t interact. She’s already disobeyed that twice today; by going to the café, and by trying to talk to Camila in the class she never showed up for. After the way the girl in her other class had acted, and the things Lucy had said, she knows she needs to do this, even if she might be worried it’s a bad idea.

“I’m here to talk.” Lauren explains herself, biting down on her bottom lip. “You asked me to hear you out. I went to the café, this afternoon. You never showed.”

“Oh,” Camila’s eyes widen in realisation, and while she still looks a little stunned, she opens the door wider to let Lauren in. “Okay, yeah, come in.”

She follows Camila upstairs, for some privacy, but when she gets into Camila’s bedroom, she takes a seat on her desk chair instead of her bed. Camila awkwardly disappears from the room, but when she returns she’s carrying a glass of water, offering it out to Lauren. She takes it, not expecting this kind of hospitality after how hostile she’d been.

 _But you don’t know, it could’ve been justifiable,_ Lauren reminds herself. She goes to take a sip of the water, but then that mocking little voice at the back of her head pipes up _what if it’s drugged_ and she puts it down on the desk out of sheer paranoia. “Alright then. Tell me what you wanted to tell me.”

“Okay, um, I don’t really know where to start,” Camila bites down on her bottom lip, clearly trying to think, “well, um, you know that I was a fan. I saw you in that first Wednesday lecture, and that’s when I sort of had my starstruck internal freak out. I didn’t know if I was going to talk to you or not, but eventually I decided to just… leave you alone. Figured you were just here to get an education, not entertain any fans.”

“But then you came into that empty classroom while I was practicing, and you started talking to me. I didn’t want to blurt out _oh, by the way, I’ve been a fan for years_ , and you didn’t mention anything about the show, but I didn’t see it as anything other than a brief conversation between strangers. I didn’t think you’d approach me and ask to sit next to me in the next lecture. I honestly expected you’d forget I ever existed, and that tiny little conversation would be something I could just sort of… cherish. Since I got to meet you organically, not in a weird fan/celebrity setting.”

“But you _did_ ask to sit with me in that next lecture, and I’m not a total asshole, so obviously I said yes. Asking you to come with me for a drink was just a split-second _I don’t know why I did that_ kind of thing, but the way you smiled, I just- wanted that to keep happening,” Camila blurts out, but then blushes embarrassedly, and something in Lauren flips, but she tries to smother that feeling. “Then you asked for my number, so I gave it to you. And you texted me to ask if I wanted to walk to the lecture with you, and I said yes. To be friendly. Not because I wanted something. I didn’t ask you for anything, except for _after_ you asked me to get lunch with you that day, and I suggested we make it a weekly thing. When you were over here to watch _The Haunting of Hill House,_ I spoke to my friends about everything, and I’d already decided that I was going to tell you the truth. I just didn’t know how to, especially when you obviously didn’t want me to know.”

Lauren frowns. “But what did you _want_?”

“What do you mean _what did I want_?” Camila replies, and Lauren can tell she’s a little baffled by the question. “I didn’t want anything. I just wanted to be nice.”

“But that’s- _none_ of you ever want to be nice,” Lauren answers, “you all _want_ something, whether it’s a selfie or connections in the industry or just a follow back on Twitter or whatever.”

“Clearly you don’t know anything about your own fans, because most of them are respectful and just want to see you happy,” Camila retorts, and when Lauren rolls her eyes, she says, “no, seriously. I get that the minority that harass you and just want you to be like, their _fantasy_ of you are so loud that it can seem like the whole fandom, but that’s not the case. Most of us can’t _stand_ them, anyway.”

Lauren meets Camila’s gaze, and when the younger girl sends her a sheepish smile, she feels her walls crumbling. “I don’t really hate them. Or… you. Whatever. I don’t- I don’t _like_ it, having fans or whatever, but I don’t… I don’t hate them. I hate the ones who…”

“Who harassed you and freaked you out by constantly speculating your sexuality.” Camila finishes for her. “I know, I hate them too. Especially after seeing what it did to you.”

“But how do I know that?” Lauren asks. “How do I know you’re not one of them? You literally asked me if Lucy and I were together.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?” Camila looks hurt at the suggestion, but Lauren knows that fans cross lines all the time. “It’s like when you accused me of making friends with you just to out you to the media or whatever. Do you really think I would do something like that?”

Lauren sighs, and after a few moments, she shakes her head. “No. I don’t.”

“Because I haven’t told anyone that you’re bi. I wouldn’t do that, I know you’re not out, and that’s your thing to tell people if you want to,” Camila says, and if anything, it just makes Lauren feel guiltier. “But if you can’t trust me, I don’t really know what else to say to you.”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip. “What kind of a fan were you? Just a casual viewer or…?”

“Or one of the psychos?” Camila raises her eyebrows, but before Lauren can say anything, she continues, “Somewhere in between. I was more invested than a casual viewer, but I never would’ve harassed you or Lucy over some dumb ship. You know when I told you that in high school, people were mean to me because I was the only gay kid? When I learned to ignore them, learned that what I felt wasn’t _wrong_ , it was because of your character, and Lucy’s, and that ship. Seeing two people on screen who were like me gave me comfort, and while Lucy was a part of that, I was always more drawn to you and your character.”

Immediately, Lauren bristles. “So you only like me because of my character?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” Camila waves her off, and Lauren envies just how _calm_ she is, “I said you _and_ your character. Not to sound like a total creeper, but I had a fan account on Twitter and Instagram for like three years. Until I started making friends with you, then it felt weird, so I haven’t been on them in a while.”

Knowing that _this_ will either prove her anxious suspicion, or disprove it, Lauren pulls her phone from her pocket. “What’s the username?”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Seriously? Don’t you think we’re past a follow back?”

“I never said I was going to follow you, I just want to look.” Lauren says, holding out her phone, Twitter already open. “Put it in.”

Camila watches her, like she’s wondering if this is some kind of trap, but she types the username into Twitter and passes Lauren’s phone back. “I told you, I haven’t been on it for ages.”

Lauren scrolls through the tweets, and there’s nothing that implies that Camila was one of the crazies. She pauses on one of the most recent retweets. “I replied to you.”

“That was the day I first saw you in class.” Camila shrugs. “I was just… wondering why you were there. If it was just a one-time thing or not. Didn’t expect you’d reply, because you’d never noticed me before that.”

“Finding out so you could talk to me?” Lauren asks as she continues to scroll through the tweets, blushing at one where Camila calls her hot.

Camila shakes her head. “No, just curiosity. At that point I was still _debating_ talking to you, but eventually I decided I’d just leave you alone.”

After scrolling back a decent amount, finding tweets _defending_ her against some of the other fans, and trying not to outwardly react at any tweets in which Camila expresses attraction towards her, she closes her Twitter app and looks up at the younger girl. “Okay. Alright.”

Camila frowns. “Alright?”

“I may have… overreacted.” Lauren replies, and Camila looks a little surprised. “I’m sorry. And… I’m sorry I lied too. I guess I just liked that you didn’t treat me differently.”

“And I still won’t,” Camila reaches over and takes her hand, and Lauren jumps at the contact, but squeezes it in return. “I’m sorry I didn’t just _tell_ you that I was a fan, but when you’re trying to make friends with someone, it’s a little embarrassing to admit you had posters of them on your bedroom wall.”

Lauren looks up in surprise. “You had _posters?_ ”

Camila blushes embarrassedly. “In my bedroom in Miami, they’re still up. Haven’t been back since before I met you.”

Unable to help herself, Lauren laughs, but not in a mean kind of way. In a more _oh my god you’re adorable_ kind of way. Sending her a teasing grin, she asks, “did you kiss them goodnight?”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up,” Camila gives her a light, playful shove, but she’s laughing too, and finally everything feels _okay_ again. “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

Lauren snorts. “I mean, it’s hard not to be when I find out you used to kiss my picture every night before you went to sleep.”

“I did _not_ do that,” Camila groans, rolling her eyes at Lauren, “in all seriousness, I didn’t. But can I ask you a question?”

Lauren raises her eyebrows, the ghost of laughter still shining in her eyes. “Sure.”

“Did you mean it?” Camila asks. “When you said you had feelings for me?”

Not expecting the question, the smile drops from Lauren’s face. She’d kind of hoped Camila would just _forget_ she’d ever said that. “Uh, yeah. I did. But it’s okay, I know you don’t feel the same way. You like Lucy.”

Camila blinks in surprise. “Uh… since when did I like Lucy like that?”

Lauren frowns. “That night when you met her. You asked me if we were together-”

“Oh my god, I asked that because I like _you_ , dumbass,” Camila rolls her eyes, “Obviously. You guys are really close and you seemed kind of sad when I asked and you said no, so I figured that _you_ liked her. It made sense in my head, when I thought about how defensive you always get because of the whole Laucy thing.”

“Okay, I don’t really know what to focus on first. So, if I’m understanding this correctly, you like me?” Lauren asks, and her heart is beating out of her chest in anticipation. Relief floods over her like a tidal wave when Camila nods, and she blurts out. “You like me for _me_? Not my character?”

“Not for your character,” Camila squeezes her hand, “you.”

“Good, because if you didn’t notice, Vanessa is kind of a jerk,” Lauren says, and when Camila laughs, she quickly jumps to the other topic, “and I don’t… I don’t really care about _shipping_. Like, if people want to ship me with Lucy, that’s fine, it’s just the harassment. When it goes too far. That’s why I get defensive, because she’s one of my best friends and I don’t want anything to fuck that up.”

“If you scroll far back enough on my old fan Instagram, you’ll see a huge rant I wrote about that kind of thing. It was that day when people were circulating that photoshopped image of you guys kissing and claiming it was real,” Camila says, and Lauren remembers that, remembers having to write a _statement_ about it when she would’ve rather ignored it. “I never liked the way they acted, especially towards you. They really liked to target you because they knew they could get a rise out of you.”

“I don’t hate the fans,” Lauren repeats, because she feels like she _has_ to. “Just… those ones.”

“I know,” Camila smiles, and after a few moments of comforting silence, she sends Lauren a teasing grin and adds, “so… you have feelings for me?”

“I… yeah.” Lauren admits, and it feels like a weight off her chest. “And you like me back.”

“I do,” Camila’s thumb rubs against Lauren’s comfortingly, “I hope that means we’re all good here.”

“More than good,” Lauren assures her, “so… do you have a _normal_ Twitter I can follow you on, or…?”

Camila laughs, and when Lauren offers her phone, she types in her username and follows herself. Then she follows Lauren back from her own phone, and they both do the same on Instagram, when Lauren finally unblocks her from both her public and private accounts, and follows her on both. When the younger girl looks at the notification, she laughs to herself. “You know, if I ever imagined seeing _laurenjauregui_ _followed you_ , I definitely didn’t think we’d be sat in the same room.”

Lauren pushes herself off Camila’s desk chair and sits down next to her on the bed. “What about on the same bed?”

“Nope.” Camila sighs happily when Lauren loops her arm through Camila’s and rests her head on her shoulder. “Oh, there’s something else I need to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Lauren frowns. “What?”

Camila flashes her that gorgeous smile, brown eyes warm and happy. “Will you go on a date with me, Lauren?”

Lauren blushes, and when she opens her mouth to say _yes_ , all that comes out is an embarrassing giggle. _That_ just makes her blush even more, and eventually, she somehow manages to force a, “ _yeah_ ,” out of her mouth, and Camila just smiles, kissing the top of her head, which basically makes Lauren melt into a useless puddle of goo.

“You’re so cute.” Camila smiles. “Okay, so… are you free on Saturday night?”

“No. Wait, Yeah!” Lauren nods, pretty much unable to wipe the smile from her face, “sorry, it’s just, I really like you, so I’m kind of malfunctioning right now.”

“Wow, and _I’m_ supposed to be the crazy fan,” Camila teases her, “you wouldn’t know that by looking at us right now. Although I’m totally going to have my own freak-out when you go home, because dammit, you’re like the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Saturday,” Lauren murmurs to herself, “if I’m being completely honest, I didn’t expect to get a date out of all of this.”

“Me either, but still.” Camila grins. “I’m glad we’re here.”

Lauren takes her hand and sends her a shy smile. “Me too, Camz.”

Camila

“Thought _Game of Thrones_ was your favourite show.”

“One of,” Lauren corrects her, typing _American Horror Story_ into the Netflix search bar, “this is also a favourite of mine. And I feel like you wouldn’t be able to watch it by yourself, but it’s _so_ good and I want you to experience it.”

Instead of pressing play on season one, episode one, Lauren clicks on the downbar and selects season three. “Um, aren’t we watching seasons one and two first?”

“Nope,” Lauren laughs, “it’s an anthology series, so you can basically watch any season you want, and _Coven_ is the best. _Asylum_ is a close second. I _really_ want to audition for this, sometimes they add new cast members.”

“I’m sure they’d hire you,” Camila announces, as Lauren presses play on the first episode. “You’re an amazing actress, after all.”

“Thanks, now _shush_ ,” Lauren hushes her, snuggling up to her, and Camila tries to stifle her smile. “You’ll like this, I promise.”

After they’d had their talk, Lauren had offered to go home, but Camila invited her to stay for dinner, since she’d missed her so much over the last week and a half. That’s when Lauren proposed they watch another TV show together; Camila had to restrain herself from joking that they should watch _Silverhollow_. Being the gracious host that she is, she’d let Lauren pick, and the older girl had gone straight to Netflix, telling her that they’re watching _American Horror Story._ Camila, being a massive wimp, had almost said no to that idea, but Lauren had sent her the cutest look and the biggest puppy dog eyes, and Camila couldn’t resist.

(Especially when Lauren promised she’d hold her hand if she got scared.)

Camila takes advantage of that as they watch the opening scene, even though she’s not really that scared; she just wants to hold Lauren’s hand. The older girl rests her head on her chest, and Camila uses her other hand to play with her hair, more wrapped up in the fact that Lauren is cuddling her than anything that’s going on in the show.

They watch a couple of episodes, and Camila tries her best to pay attention, but really, she’s focused on Lauren. Her fingers trace the older girl’s widow’s peak as they run through her hair, and Camila finds herself studying every detail of the older girl. She’s not wearing makeup, so Camila can see the little freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose, and it’s hard _not_ to think about how much she wants to kiss them.

“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” Lauren speaks up halfway through the third episode. She reaches out to pause the show. “What’s so interesting?”

“You,” Camila admits, playing with the older girl’s hair and pouting when she pushes herself up to sit, “no, you’re supposed to cuddle me.”

“But it’s obviously a distraction to you,” Lauren sends her a teasing grin, “maybe I should go sit over there at your desk.”

“No, no, come here,” Camila pulls her back down, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I promise I’ll pay attention. It’s just so hard _not_ to focus on how incredibly beautiful you are.”

 _That_ does it. Lauren blushes, letting out an awkward laugh, saying, “ _Camz._ ”

“It’s the truth,” Camila assures her, playing with her hair again, “Promise you I’ll watch the show now. And after this episode, we can go to the kitchen and figure out something to eat.”

“Okay, just _not_ mac and cheese,” Lauren says, “it was the only comfort food they had at catering on set and I think I’ve eaten my body weight in it over the last week.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Comfort food?”

“You know, stuff that’s bad for you that you eat when you’re sad.” Lauren elaborates. “But it’s also so, _so_ good. Like pizza and fast food and mac and cheese. French fries. Also _endless_ quantities of chips and salsa.”

Camila hums in though. “What about cookies and cake?”

“In smaller quantities. I don’t like too much sweet stuff in one go,” Lauren explains, and even though Camila had already known that from an interview, she keeps her mouth shut. _Things are fine now, she knows you were a fan, don’t make it weirder than it has to be._ “Anyway. Finish this episode and then have like… whatever you’ve got in for dinner.”

“We probably have a frozen pizza we can share.” Camila shrugs. “Normally I can demolish a big 14 inch one by myself, but I’ll share for _you_. Only because I like you.”

“Aw, I’m honoured.” Lauren claps a hand to her heart and smiles, before she gets off Camila’s bed completely and walks over to her t-shirt drawer. “I still want the shirt I’m owed.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “The shirt you’re _owed_?”

“I recall that you said I could keep whichever shirt I picked, when you were going to wash mine,” Lauren points out, and the younger girl snorts in amusement. “What? An elephant never forgets.”

“I didn’t realise you were an elephant,” Camila teases her, “but sure, go ahead. Keep whichever one you want.”

Lauren smiles satisfactorily, and as she opens up the t-shirt drawer and starts digging through, she adds, “you can play the show, by the way. I’ve seen it all anyway. Maybe you’ll actually pay attention to it this way.”

Camila plays the show and tries to pay attention to it, and it _is_ easier when she doesn’t have Lauren right there in her arms to stare at in awe. The episode is almost over when Lauren sits down next to her on the bed, holding the same red cropped t-shirt that she’d been looking at last time.

“Can I have this?” She asks, and Camila nods in confirmation. But honestly, Lauren could’ve asked for her right lung and she would’ve given it to her. “Tanks, Camz.”

“You’re welcome,” Camila smiles, putting an arm around the older girl’s shoulder as they finish the episode. When that’s done, Camila turns her TV off and pushes herself up. “Okay, dinner. I’m not the best chef in the world, so it will have to be something frozen stuck in the oven.”

“That’s fine,” Lauren puts the shirt in her backpack and follows her downstairs, grabbing her hand halfway down and blushing embarrassedly when Camila looks at her in surprise. “Sorry.”

She goes to let go of her hand, but Camila just squeezes it in reply. “Don’t apologise.”

“I know, but I feel like I should save all this for the date,” Lauren murmurs, shrugging, “so it’s more… _romantic_.”

Camila can’t help herself; she laughs. “We don’t have to save _holding hands_. Besides, you were perfectly fine snuggling me upstairs.”

“Alright, good,” Lauren smiles, holding Camila’s hand as they walk to the kitchen. “Are your roommates in?”

Camila shrugs. “Normani should be somewhere, but I’m pretty sure Dinah had a late thing tonight, and Ally’s at her boyfriend’s.”

She has to let go of Lauren’s hand to open the freezer and get out a pizza to stick in the oven. She turns it on to preheat and then hops up onto the counter, sending the older girl a soft smile.

“I’m really glad things are okay, Lo,” Camila murmurs, before she realises that Lauren had gone to meet her at the café, and she hadn’t shown; only because she thought _Lauren_ wouldn’t, but still. “And I’m sorry I didn’t show at the café. I would’ve, if I thought there was even a chance that you’d go.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Lauren admits, and Camila wonders what _prompted_ her sudden change of heart. She doesn’t have to ask. “There’s this- this girl in the class I have before I usually meet you. She always wears the same _Silverhollow_ t-shirt and stares at me, and any time she talks to me she calls me Vanessa.”

Camila cringes at the tale. “That’s so disrespectful.”

“Thank you for thinking that way,” Lauren reaches out and takes her hand, playing with her fingers, twisting the silver ring Camila always wears on her thumb. “She asked me out by saying _I know you say you’re straight, but everyone knows you’re actually not_ , and didn’t seem to know my _real name,_ and then when I said no, she called me a bitch. And- and I know you’d never treat me like that, not even if the circumstances were different.”

“That’s- what’s her name?” Camila asks, her blood boiling on the older girl’s behalf. “Because I _swear_ , I’ll kick her ass. I’m not that strong but I _am_ passionate when it comes to defending the people I care about.”

Lauren smiles, and it’s a little weak, but still genuine. “You’re cute. I just- I hate that I always have to be this… this put-together famous girl. _Lauren Jauregui._ I can’t just be myself and I can’t stick up for myself when people act like that. Because then everyone thinks I’m an asshole, but it’s like… would any one of them be able to just _sit_ there and take it?”

“You _should_ defend yourself,” Camila assures her; that’s one of the things she’d always respected about Lauren, the way she’s not afraid to speak her mind. “If they’re being an asshole, they deserve to be told. And if you don’t feel comfortable doing that, then call me, and I’ll do it for you. I honestly just blurt stupid shit out sometimes and get myself in trouble, but it’d be worth it if it means I get to see you smile.”

“I’m just- I wish everyone was like you,” Lauren sighs, leaning against the counter, “you- even though you lied, you never… you never acted _weird_.”

“Because it was obvious you hated it,” Camila shrugs, “I’ll admit, I used to look at you like some almighty god who could do no wrong, but now that I actually _know_ you, I realise that’s just not realistic. You’re just… a person. Just because you have a platform, it shouldn’t give people the right to dehumanise you the way they do.”

Almost at a loss for words, Lauren pulls her in for a hug, and Camila slips down off the counter to properly hug her back. She sighs when Lauren buries her face into her neck, and wraps her arms around the older girl’s waist, and that’s how they are when Normani comes down the stairs, stops in her tracks in the hallway, and catches Camila’s gaze.

She wiggles her eyebrows and looks at her as if to say _I told you so_ , and Camila rolls her eyes in reply, pulling away from Lauren and announcing loudly, “Mani. Didn’t realise you were home.”

She _did_ , but she didn’t know how else to divert the conversation before Normani could obviously tease her about her crush on Lauren. Even though Camila had been convinced that Lauren hated her this last week or so, Normani had insisted that Lauren was mad because she _liked_ her.

“Been home a while, Mila.” Normani comments, totally not subtle at all with the way she’s looking at them. “I see you two kissed and made up.”

Lauren blushes, and Camila scowls in response, almost pushing Lauren behind her protectively. “Shut up.”

“What? You’re not denying it,” Normani grins, grabbing a bag of chips from the cupboard and heading back out of the kitchen. “I told you she liked you back! Tell Dinah she owes me twenty dollars.”

Camila blinks, “You made a _bet_ on my love life?”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me, I was the one who bet that she liked you back. If anything, be mad at _Dinah_ , she thought you had no chance,” Normani defends herself as she heads up the stairs, “You’re cute together, by the way.”

She hears Normani’s bedroom door shut, and she turns to Lauren, aware that she’s blushing, but probably not as much as the older girl. Finally smiling, she lets out an agreeable, “well, she _was_ right. You do like me back.”

“I really do,” Lauren murmurs, taking her hand and squeezing it, “and I can’t wait for Saturday.”

“Me either, Laur,” Camila smiles, “I’m going to woo your socks off.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows as she quips, “Just my socks?”

Camila’s mouth gapes open, not expecting that from her, and Lauren just smirks when the oven dings to tell them it has preheated. As the older girl puts the pizza in, Camila gives her a playful shove. “And you say you’re not smooth.”

“I’m _not_ when you play with my hair and hold my hand because you’re so pretty it makes me malfunction,” Lauren pouts, and when Camila hops up on the counter to sit, Lauren sits next to her, resting her head on her shoulder. “But seriously. I really like you, Camz.”

Camila’s stomach flutters, and this morning, this whole situation would’ve felt like an impossible dream. But it’s not, they’re okay, _so_ okay that they’re going on a fucking _date_ on Saturday. “Trust me. I really, _really_ like you too.”


	13. Chapter 13

Camila

“Alright, so… I’m taking Lauren Jauregui on a date.” Camila says, mostly to herself, but in part to Dinah, Ally and Normani. “I’m walking to her apartment to pick her up, and then I’m taking her on a date. Are we sure this is real life?”

Normani rolls her eyes. “Didn’t she say she liked it when you _didn’t_ act all fangirly?”

“I’m not acting fangirly, I’m shocked that my crush actually likes me back, there’s a difference,” Camila quips, but there’s no bite behind it, because she’s _incredibly fucking nervous_. She doesn’t know how she can compare to Lauren’s exes; two of whom were _rich and famous_. “Alright. I’m going. You’ll all be on standby in case I need saving when I inevitably fuck up?”

“You’ll be fine,” Ally assures her, “but we’re here if you need us.”

“Now get out of here, and get yourself a hot, rich girlfriend,” Dinah says, and when Camila looks at her like _really_ , her best friend just shrugs. “What? She drives a _Tesla_ , you know she’s rich.”

“I’m- I don’t even _think_ about that,” Camila brushes her off, “I’m going. I’ll… let you know how it goes.”

She gets a taxi to Lauren’s apartment building, and quickly ducks inside after another resident to avoid having to ring the bell and get Lauren to buzz her up. She gets the elevator to Lauren’s floor, all while smoothing out her dress with one hand and inspecting the bouquet of roses in the other, wondering if Lauren will like them, or if they’re too cheesy.

As she makes her way down the hall to Lauren’s apartment number, the nerves really start to build. She’s terrified; not because she’s going on a date with _Lauren Jauregui,_ the girl who has been her celebrity crush since she was seventeen, but because she’s going on a date with _Lauren_ , her friend who she’s crazy about.

She knocks on the door, and after a few moments, it swings open. Lauren is wearing a beautiful black dress that hugs her every curve in all the right places, and Camila feels completely inadequate, because she doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone quite so beautiful. For a moment, she wonders if Lauren had gotten some kind of stylist or Hollywood makeup artist to come over and get her all glammed up, but the apartment is empty, so she figures that Lauren is just _that_ talented.

“Hi,” Lauren sends her that goofy, lopsided grin, and Camila’s whole heart melts like candle wax. “I didn’t realise you were here, I figured I’d have to buzz you in.”

“Snuck in after someone else,” Camila smiles sheepishly, holding out the roses she’d momentarily forgotten she had. “Oh, here. These are for you. I wasn’t sure if they were too cheesy or whatever, but…”

Lauren looks at her in total adoration, beckoning her inside as she takes the roses. “You’re so thoughtful. Let me get a vase for these.”

“Oh, thank god, I actually just had the sudden realisation that you might not have owned a vase, because I certainly don’t,” Camila jokes, as Lauren pulls a glass vase from under the sink and fills it with water, putting the flowers inside and setting them on the counter. “It would’ve been a total disaster if you hadn’t, and I realise that I’m rambling and being totally awkward, but I’m just super nervous because I feel like if I fuck this up then-”

“Then we’ll have something to laugh about on our next date,” Lauren finishes for her, walking back over to her and taking both of her hands in hers. “I really like you, Camz. Even if you did something awkward that would be some kind of dealbreaker with a total stranger, I _know_ you. It’s different, and I get that you’re nervous. I am too.”

Camila pouts petulantly. “You don’t _look_ nervous.”

Lauren laughs. “Camz, what do I do for a living?”

Lauren raises her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for the realisation. At the rhetorical question, the younger girl blushes. “Oh. I forgot about that.”

Lauren sends her that goofy grin again, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And that’s just one of the reasons why I adore you. Anyway, what’s the plan?”

“Oh, yeah, the plan. For our date. Which we are on right now,” Camila awkwardly hedges, trying to remember what exactly it was that she’d planned. “Oh! Classic dinner date _but_ at a little, quiet restaurant nearby here. It’s within walking distance, if you want to drink. Or we could drive.”

“I don’t know if I want to drink, but I’m down for a walk,” Lauren finally lets go of her hands, and slips on a pair of heels which match her dress perfectly. “Unless you want me to drive?”

“No, I’m being the chivalrous one.” Camila decides, “I’d offer to drive us, but I literally _can’t_ drive, so that would end up with both of us dying. Or at least me wrecking your _really_ nice car.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “You never wanted to learn?”

Camila blushes, but tries to play it cool as she follows Lauren out of the door. “I don’t exactly have the biggest attention span and I don’t want to commit vehicular manslaughter just because I saw a cute puppy on the sidewalk.”

She waits for the older girl to lock up before she takes her hand, and Lauren gives it a comforting squeeze before she replies, “well, at least you’re not doing it for a responsible reason.”

“I guess I’ve got to find myself a girl who’s willing to drive me around for the rest of my life,” Camila says, sending Lauren a knowing smile, but then adds, “either that, or it’ll be my mom’s eternal job.”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “ _Yeah, I know I’m forty years old and all, but I can’t hang out, my mom won’t drop me off.”_

Camila cringes at the mental image, “yeah, definitely got to be the girlfriend.”

“Well, I’ll have you know,” Lauren sends her a cocky grin, “I’m a great driver. Passed my test first time.”

Camila looks up at her, and when she meets Lauren’s gaze, they get lost in each other’s eyes for a moment, before Lauren finally blushes and looks away, and Camila blurts out another, “goddammit, you’re so cute.”

If anything, that makes Lauren blush _more_ , red staining her cheeks. “Okay, I’m going to need you to _stop_ saying stuff like that if you want me to be actually _functional_ tonight.”

“Aw, do you have a little _crush_ on me, Lo?” She teases her, and when Lauren meets her gaze to _glare_ at her, she holds her stare for about two seconds before the older girl lets out an awkward giggle and looks away again. “God, you really do get all speechless around girls you like, huh?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so pretty, okay!” Lauren defends herself. “Couldn’t have helped me out here by showing up in your sweats, could you? But _no_ , you look like a fucking model.”

Camila’s stomach flips at the compliments as they turn onto the street the restaurant is on. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever been called a _model_ before…”

“You’re prettier than any model I’ve ever met,” Lauren shyly responds, before she puts on a stern expression and adds, “now _stop_ complimenting me, or this date is _over_.”

Camila pouts, “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“And don’t do _that_ , either,” Lauren says, “because it makes me want to kiss you, and I have to save that until _after_ dinner.”

“Who says that?” Camila challenges her, just to see if she’d be brave enough to do it. For a moment, it hits her that she’s on a date with the woman she’s idolised for years, and yet _Lauren_ is the one practically melting any time she speaks. “Is it some kind of rule?”

“Well, no, but…” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip in thought, “but that’s just how it works, you know? The traditional kiss goodnight.”

“Fuck tradition, but…” Camila pauses, “but if that’s what you want, I guess I can restrain myself until then.”

Lauren looks a little weak at the knees at the thought. “I- yeah. So…”

Camila tugs her towards the restaurant, “come on, dinner time.”

She talks to the hostess all by herself, because she made the reservation, and she doesn’t want to look like a totally awkward loser in front of Lauren. As they’re led to their table, she tries to relax; if she’s being honest, the walk over had kind of calmed her down. Not entirely; she’s on a date with the most gorgeous human to ever be created, but there’s something about Lauren’s presence that always makes her relax.

She pulls out Lauren’s chair for her; her whole plan is to be as chivalrous as possible. Another embarrassing fact; she’d almost considered watching one of the interviews in which Lauren said what she looked for in a relationship – _or guy, because she’s not out_ – but she figured that would be too far.

As she takes her own seat across from Lauren, she’s _so_ tempted to blow out the candle on the table between them, but she reigns it in. She takes her menu from the waitress, and pretends to look through it when the waitress pauses before she leaves, looks at Lauren, and asks, “Aren’t you from-”

“ _Silverhollow?_ Yeah. Can I get a glass of the merlot, please?” Lauren says, and when the girl goes to write it down without IDing her, she corrects herself. “Can I get a bottle, actually? With two glasses.”

The waitress doesn’t bother to ID Camila, and when she leaves after taking their drinks order, she looks over at Lauren with a grin. “Is that some kind of perk?”

Lauren smirks in reply. “It was before I turned twenty-one, but now it’s just nice not to have to rummage through my purse for ID, considering I look fifteen when I don’t bother with makeup and stuff.”

“Of course you’d take advantage of something like that,” Camila rolls her eyes, “naturally.”

The waitress is quick to bring their drinks over, pouring out two glasses of wine and leaving the bottle for them. Lauren picks up her glass, and holds it up for a toast. “To the first of many dates.”

Camila grins, clinking her glass against Lauren’s. “Alright, that waitress is _definitely_ checking you out.”

“Really?” Lauren laughs, taking a sip of her wine before she puts down her glass and picks up her menu. “Didn’t notice. I only have eyes for my beautiful date.”

“And you say you’re not smooth,” Camila plays it off, but she’s kind of dying inside, because _Lauren thinks she’s beautiful._ She picks up her own menu, and figures she’ll just get some pasta, putting it down again and glancing at Lauren over the table as the older girl looks through her menu. “So… the first of _many_ dates, huh? How many are you thinking?”

Lauren hums in thought, closing her menu and smiling at Camila over the table. “I think that’s for me to know, and for _you_ to find out.”

“Alright, alright,” Camila laughs, and when the waitress comes over to take their orders, she’s almost _offended_ by how quickly she dismisses Camila, but then is clearly desperate to get something from Lauren, like a picture or an autograph.

The older girl sends her a polite smile when the girl says just how much the show means to her, as it helped her find comfort in her sexuality, and Camila rolls her eyes before she can stop herself. Lauren seems to notice out of the corner of her eye, because she lets out a little snicker of laughter before answering, “aw, that’s so sweet. I’m glad that the show could do that for you.”

“It was you and Lucy, not the show,” the girl is quick to specify, “and when you guys finally come out as a couple, _that_ will help even more people.”

Again, Camila rolls her eyes, but this time she doesn’t even bother stifling it. “Dumbass.”

Lauren hears her mutter, and her gaze flicks over to Camila for a split second, flashing her a smile, but when she turns back to the waitress, some of the light leaves her eyes and her smile is so much more forced. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Lucy and I are just friends.”

“Sure, we know you can’t come out yet because of your contract with your PR team,” the girl says like she’s _reassuring_ Lauren, “it’s okay.”

“A contract with my PR team? Alright, let me just call my manager and double-check this mystical contract,” Lauren says it with a little more bite, and Camila is quick to reach under the table and squeeze her knee comfortingly. It seems to relax her, because Lauren is at peak politeness when she replies, “Sorry, do you mind if I could just continue my dinner with my friend, thanks?”

Not giving the girl chance to respond, Lauren looks back at Camila like the waitress isn’t even there, “So, Camz, tell me about your other classes.”

The waitress seems to realise that she’s not going to get anything else out of her and turns on her heel, and when a different waiter walks past, Camila quickly says, “excuse me, do you mind if we get a different waitress? Thanks.”

When the guy assures her that they can do that, Camila turns back to Lauren, but the older girl is already apologising. “I’m so sorry, I hate that-”

“Don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault,” Camila quickly assures her, “she was being a jerk. As a fan, she should respect you, but she obviously didn’t.”

“Okay,” Lauren flashes her a small smile, “I’m glad that you weren’t like that. When we met, I mean, when I was creeping on you playing your guitar. Because, you were kind of right. I would’ve figured you were just another fan wanting something, and not a potential friend. Or… whatever.”

“Well, I always prided myself on being one of the few respectful fans,” Camila responds, “but I will admit, the only reason I _didn’t_ ship you with Lucy was because I was partially too focused on the fictional characters but _also_ because I was too busy shipping you with myself.”

“Looks like your shipping dreams are finally coming true, then,” Lauren teases her, but she still looks a little down, and before Camila can even _ask_ , she says, “I’m just kind of annoyed that she said that stuff in front of you. Like… could we _look_ any more like a couple right now?”

“People _do_ think you’re straight,” Camila shrugs, “and, you know, you called me your _friend_.”

“You _are_ my friend,” Lauren replies, “I would’ve said _date_ , but I don’t know if you’re comfortable with that. Like, if I _had_ said that, it would be all over Twitter right now. The fans can be kind of ruthless, and that’s kind of why I…”

She trails off, and if anything, it just makes Camila more curious about something. She figures it’s okay if she asks questions; they’re on a date, and the whole purpose of a first date in most cases is to get to know each other.

“Can I ask you something?” Camila reaches across the table and takes Lauren’s hand, and in the light of the candle, the older girl nods. “Alright. Well… why are you actually here? Like, at Stanford. Why didn’t you just keep doing your online stuff?”

“I… if I tell you this, you can’t tell anyone else, because I’m technically breaking a contract if I answer that one hundred percent honestly. But I trust you.” Lauren says. “Promise me?”

She holds out her pinky, and Camila wraps hers around it. “Promise.”

“I’ve actually, um… struggled with a lot of anxiety for the last couple of years.” Lauren admits, biting down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, it started with just overthinking but then I would get panic attacks every time I was overwhelmed, which was a lot. With my mental health totally deteriorating, I didn’t know what to do, and there was so much _pressure_ from the fans to be perfect. I needed to get away from it all.”

“So that’s why you’re here?” Camila asks. “Anxiety? Are you going to go back when season four starts shooting? Are you seeing a therapist or…?”

“Um, I tried therapy, but it didn’t really feel… effective, because a lot of people aren’t really very versed in coping mechanisms for people in situations like mine, so I figured I wouldn’t waste the money and just try to figure out self-love on my own. And, um, about the show, I- this is the part that if I tell you, I’m breaking contract,” Lauren prefaces, “I left the show. I won’t tell you how because I know you still watch it and like, spoilers, but I left. I’m not going to be in season four. It was my choice, nobody else’s, and I made it. I was never cut out for fame. I just wanted to act.”

Camila stares at her for a moment, and she feels bad when she’s concerned for Vanessa. “They killed you off?”

“I can’t answer that.” Lauren says, but she shakes her head ever-so-slightly, and then sends Camila a rather obvious wink when the younger girl is clearly relieved. “Anyway. I’m here, and I’m going to finish college, get a degree, and _then_ I can think about what I want to do.”

Camila frowns. “Would you ever just… stop acting all together?”

“I’ve considered it, but I love the craft too much to give it up,” Lauren meets her gaze, sending her a sad smile, “that’s kind of another reason why I’m here. To figure out what I want to do, because I don’t want to have to stop doing the one thing I really love, but I also can’t deal with all the attention. Figured a break would be best so I can have time to find like, a proper coping mechanism for the whole thing, because the coping mechanism I _had_ was partying too much, and that’s obviously super destructive.”

“We could always run down to Party City and buy you a wig,” Camila jokes, “you could pull a _Hannah Montana._ ”

Lauren laughs. “I actually own a Daenerys Targaryen wig, but I think that’d just draw more attention to me.”

“I _loved_ that costume,” Camila blurts out, without realising that she’s kind of reminding Lauren just how much she knows about her. “Sorry, it was just… it was nice.”

Lauren doesn’t let it faze her. She flashes her a teasing grin. “ _Nice_ , was it?”

“I- shut _up_ ,” Camila rolls her eyes, “it _was._ ”

Lauren smirks. “Aw, Camz, did you have a little crush on me?”

“You know for a fact that I did and I _do_ , so stop mocking me for it,” Camila pouts, “you think it’s cute.”

“I actually really do,” Lauren murmurs, resting her head on her hands and sending her an adoring smile. “But I _also_ think everything you do is ridiculously _hot_ , so…”

Camila’s stomach flips. “You do?”

“I do,” Lauren sighs contentedly. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“You know, I actually-” Camila cuts herself off with a laugh, and she figures she can tell this story without it being weird; Lauren doesn’t actually seem that bothered about how she was a fan. “I actually almost met you at Comic Con once. Back in 2015.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lauren asks, then sending her another teasing smirk, she adds, “Chickened out?”

“ _No_ , it was cancelled,” Camila rolls her eyes, “I remember being so mad about that. But I got to meet you eventually.”

Lauren squeezes her hand. “Yeah. I’m glad you did. So… am I what you imagined?”

“No, but in the best kind of way,” Camila smiles, “you’re like, better than I ever could’ve thought.”

“You’re just _saying_ that,” Lauren says, but she’s smiling, so obviously she appreciates the compliment. “Really though?”

“Really,” Camila promises her, “you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

Lauren

“You didn’t have to pay for dinner, you know.”

Camila shrugs. “I know, but I wanted to be chivalrous. That’s kind of like, my _thing_ with the girl I like. I just want to treat her like the princess she is.”

Lauren’s stomach flips twenty times over. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” Camila smiles, swinging their hands as they walk down the street, back towards Lauren’s apartment building. “It’s just something I like to do.”

Lauren smiles to herself, squeezing Camila’s hand, and letting the younger girl lead her down the street. “Well, thank you for a wonderful evening. This is actually the first time I’ve ever been on a date with a girl.”

Camila sends her a smirk. “And how did it compare to the obviously subpar dates with guys?”

Lauren snorts with amusement, but if she’s being totally honest, it _had_ been the best date she’s ever had. “Oh, a million times better. I know we’re joking around, but I mean it. This has been the nicest date I’ve ever been on, because it was with you.”

Whatever snarky comment that Camila had had ready gets stuck in her throat, and instead, she sends her a shy smile. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Lauren squeezes her hand as if that’s some kind of further confirmation. “And I’d like it if we could go out some other time?”

She pushes down the nerves at the pit of her stomach. _Camila likes you, you already know she’ll say yes_ , she reassures herself, but there’s always that little voice of doubt at the back of her mind, saying, _but what if she doesn’t?_

“Yeah!” Camila sends her the biggest smile. “When? Actually, I know this isn’t a _date_ , but it’s Halloween next Tuesday, and my roommates and I are drinking and watching scary movies. There was a ‘no boys’ rule employed by Dinah and Mani since they’re both single and bitter about it, but I think I can use that as a loophole, because you’re a _girl,_ so… would you be my spooky Halloween date?”

“Of course,” Lauren smiles, and it’s the first time she’s ever felt like she’s getting the college experience. “Are costumes necessary for this?”

“Nope,” Camila shrugs, “We’re just hanging out at the house, but if you really want to, you could.”

Lauren laughs, and jokes, “maybe if I feel like it, I’ll bring out the good ole Dany costume.”

Camila snorts. “You say that like you don’t know where it is, but I bet you put it on and recite her scenes into your mirror.”

“I _don’t_ , but that _would_ be my dream part.” Lauren says, before hoping aloud, “maybe when they reboot it in ten years.”

Camila shrugs, “maybe you should’ve auditioned. You can be badass.”

“Camz, the auditions were in like 2009 and 2010. I would’ve been thirteen/fourteen.” Lauren laughs. “Although, could’ve gone for Sansa… but no, I wasn’t even _thinking_ about getting into acting at that age. I’d been in a couple of school plays and loved it, but I never thought I could actually _do_ it.”

“What made you do it, then?” Camila asks, and Lauren just shrugs. If anything, the wordless answer makes Camila pout, and she looks so fucking cute that Lauren wants to kiss it right off. “Come on, Lo, tell me!”

“Well, one of the parents at one of my high school plays was actually a casting director, and he approached me and my mom after and said he was developing a new show and he’d like me to audition. He offered to fly me out to L.A. for the audition, or we could send a tape in.” Lauren shrugs, “at first, we thought it was just some sketchy old man, but we googled him and he turned out to be legit, so I figured I’d just go for it. I never thought anything would come of it, but… it did. I had one audition and two callbacks, as well as a chemistry read with a couple of other cast members like Keana and Lucy, and then they gave me the part. The rest is history.”

“Are you seriously done with the show?” Camila asks her, and Lauren frowns at the question. “Like… you act like you hate it, but I can tell you don’t. Not the _show_ , or acting, anyway.”

“I don’t know,” Lauren admits, because she really isn’t sure. After she graduates, there’s _nothing_. She could either take her literature degree into television _writing_ , and be incredibly jealous of the actors who are in whatever she writes, or she could go back to what she knows. “I’m not sure what I want to do after this year. I figure I’ll probably end up going back; they planned six seasons, and I kind of fucked them over by saying I didn’t want to be in season four. Ruined whatever they had planned, I guess.”

“So… you _don’t_ know who the killer is?” Camila asks, and when Lauren rolls her eyes, she sends her a sheepish grin. “What? You know I’m a fan of the show, _and_ that I still watched it. I’ll have to stream it tonight because I had a date with the prettiest girl in the world, but still. Do you know who the killer is? How it all ends?”

“No and no,” Lauren shakes her head, “and even if I did, I’d be breaking a contract if I told you. But no, I don’t know anything past this season. To be honest, I don’t really know anything about the other characters, because I only read my parts of the script and I don’t watch it, so…”

Camila frowns. “You’ve never watched it?”

“Nope,” Lauren shakes her head, opening up her little clutch purse for her keys as they near her building, “I feel like I’d find it uncomfortable to watch myself. Mostly because I’ve seen my mom’s bad quality recordings of one of my old high school plays, so I _know_ it’s a little awkward.”

“We should watch it together!” Camila announces, and when Lauren looks at her like she’s crazy, she continues, “No, seriously! It’ll be fun.”

“More like uncomfortable,” Lauren corrects her, shaking her head as she unlocks the main door to the apartment building. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Well, alright, I won’t push you,” Camila accepts her answer, and Lauren is surprised, because nobody _ever_ seems to give a fuck about whether she’s comfortable or not. “But I definitely still want to binge a show with you.”

“We’ll eventually decide something. We could keep going with AHS, or…,” Lauren says, holding the door open for Camila and then heading over to the elevator and calling it. “Or we could watch something neither of us has seen.”

“Sounds good,” Camila smiles, following her into the elevator. She meets Lauren’s gaze, and when the older girl realises what’s coming when they get to her door, her stomach flips and she almost lets out another one of her infamous awkward giggles which makes Camila’s heart melt. “So, we’re definitely on for Halloween?”

“Definitely,” Lauren confirms, squeezing her hand, and when the elevator opens up onto her floor, the nerves start to build in her stomach. _Camila is going to kiss her._ “Are you sure you didn’t want me to walk _you_ home?”

“No, I’m going to get an Uber from here, it’s cool,” Camila assures herself, walking her to her door, “besides, this is another part of the things I like to do on a date. Picking the girl up and taking her home, just to further show how chivalrous and amazing I am.”

She’s acting confident and cocky, but Lauren can see the nervousness behind her eyes. “Camz?”

As they stop in front of Lauren’s apartment door, Camila flashes a panicky smile. “Yeah?”

Even though she’s anxious as fuck herself, Lauren sends her an easy grin, thanking whatever powerful force is out there that they’d blessed her with her talent in acting. “Relax.”

“Alright, yeah, I’ll try,” Camila says, and she drops the hand she’s holding, “so… I’ll call you, but you already know I’m going to do that anyway. And we have Halloween to look forward to.”

“Yeah,” Lauren agrees, and when she feels Camila’s hand on her waist, pulling her closer, she jumps slightly, “ _oh.”_

“Is this… okay?” Camila asks, and Lauren just nods, meeting her gaze, “okay. I had a _really_ amazing time tonight.”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip. “Me too, Camz.”

Camila smiles, and she cups Lauren’s jaw, pulling her in closer, and when their lips finally touch, Lauren actually feels _whole_. Her arms snake around Camila’s waist as she kisses her back, heart hammering in her chest. Camila’s teeth graze Lauren’s bottom lip, and she lets out a moan without thinking, and Camila takes advantage of the way her lips part, deepening the kiss and tangling her fingers into Lauren’s hair.

Considering she’s spent the last two to three years feeling constantly like her chest is going to burst open from the amount of stress and anxiety bubbling up in there, for a moment, it all just _stops_. As she’s kissing Camila, Lauren feels genuinely _calm_ , because even if the rest of her life is confusing and messy, this seems to make _sense._ For a moment, all the horrible thoughts buzzing around her head seem to shut up, and even though college had _seemed_ like a big mistake, this definitely makes it seem so much better.

She doesn’t know who pulls away first, but suddenly they’re just _looking_ at each other, drinking each other in with total adoration.

“That was… amazing,” Lauren murmurs, breaking the silence, “this whole night has been.”

“I know,” Camila smiles, squeezing her hand, “and I hate that I have to go, but…”

“But you do,” Lauren finishes for her, “I know. Text me so I know you’re home safe?”

Camila looks pleasantly surprised at the words, so much so that she pulls Lauren in for a quick hug. “You’re the cutest. Of course I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” Lauren smiles, “I’ll see you. Thank you for an amazing night.”

“You’re welcome, Lo,” Camila seems to make a split-second decision, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Lauren’s cheek, “Goodnight.”

As Camila turns and heads towards the stairwell, Lauren unlocks her apartment door. When she’s inside, she leans against her door, stomach alive with butterflies, and heart hammering at the memory of Camila’s kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

Lauren

“Trick or treat!” She announces as the door swings open to Camila. Holding out her overnight bag, she looks at her expectantly. “I will only accept strawberry or cola flavoured candy.”

Camila laughs, “Alright, I guess you don’t want the bag of mini Reese’s that I bought for you.”

“You bought me _Reese’s?_ ” Lauren’s stomach flutters as she steps inside Camila’s house and shuts the door behind her. She slips her shoes off, and dumps her bag on top of them, and she’s definitely taken off guard when Camila pulls her in for a _hello_ kiss. “Oh, hi! So, you bought me Reese’s?”

Camila laughs. “Yeah, I know you’re not the biggest chocolate fan, but it’s Halloween, and the whole _point_ is that you’re supposed to stuff your face with candy.”

“You’re so sweet,” Lauren studies Camila for a moment, before she takes her hand and lets the younger girl lead her to the kitchen. “So… what’s the plan? I haven’t eaten dinner since you told me not to.”

“ _Well_ , first we’re going to order takeout and start drinking, and then we’re going to watch some _laughably_ bad horror movies,” Camila says, “and maybe some actually good ones too.”

“We have to watch at least _one_ classic slasher movie,” Lauren says, “like _Scream_ , _Halloween_ , _Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13 th. _Ooh, _Texas Chainsaw Massacre?_ ”

“Sure, if you want me to pee my pants,” Camila jokes, passing her a pouch of mini Reese’s, “anyway, totally no pressure to drink if you don’t want to, but _also_ total pressure to snuggle with me. I’ve already called dibs on the softest blanket and I have another surprise up my sleeve.”

Lauren smiles, “you know my default state is wanting to snuggle with you.”

“I know, because you’re basically a puppy,” Camila laughs, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek, “you’re totally the cutest. Apologies for anything I do when I’m drunk.”

“Right back at you, honestly. You saw how clingy I was when I’m _tipsy_ ,” Lauren blushes embarrassedly at the memory; she’s surprised Camila hadn’t clocked that Lauren liked her just from that. “Also, uh, is there anywhere I can smoke here? I brought my cigarettes, because when I’m drunk I like to smoke.”

“The porch, I guess,” Camila shrugs, and then sends Lauren a teasing smile, adding, “smoking kills, you know.”

Lauren holds up her hands in defence. “I don’t do it all the time! Just when I’m drunk or stressed.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of cigarettes though? Like, you develop an addiction?” Camila raises her eyebrows. “It’s only a matter of time. Maybe you should stop while you can.”

“Well, I’ve been smoking the way I do since I was eighteen,” Lauren sticks her tongue out childishly, “I treat it like a glass of wine to lay of some steam. Alcohol is an addictive substance too, and as long as you don’t go overboard, you’re good. I'd never smoke a cigarette sober. That's when I smoke weed.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure you’ve got it under control,” Camila flashes her a smile, “then I won’t criticise. Just want you to be safe and healthy, you know?"

Almost as if to emphasise just how under control she has it, she pulls the pack out of her jacket pocket, “I’ve had this carton since August, and it’s literally _Halloween_ , so…”

“Alright, I believe you,” Camila assures her, “come on, I need to introduce you to Ally and Dinah.”

Lauren tucks her cigarettes back into her pocket, and lets Camila lead her towards the lounge. She opens the door, and Lauren immediately takes note of the messy blanket fort that had been constructed using an arm of one of the couches, a drying rack and the wall. She raises her eyebrows, because there are two perfectly good couches, and Camila immediately explains.

“I made that for us,” Camila says, and that doesn’t exactly explain much at all, “Dinah’s a total couch hog and she’ll stick her feet all over you when she’s lying out, and obviously the other couch is only really big enough for two people, so… I figured I’d just bring my pillows and a load of blankets down and make us a cute little cave to watch the movies in.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Lauren grins, and she shrugs her jacket off, “where can I put this? Also, where are your friends?”

“I don’t know, I thought they were in here,” Camila frowns, and takes Lauren’s jacket, “I’ll go take your stuff upstairs.”

“That’s okay, I can help,” Lauren insists, following her out of the room and grabbing her overnight bag, pulling it onto her shoulder. “Thank you for inviting me over. Were your roommates mad? I know you had a no dates rule…”

Camila laughs, heading up the stairs, “ _Actually_ , it was a _no boys_ rule, which I’m not at all breaking. Besides, I wanted you to meet my friends properly. Apologies in advance for anything Dinah does.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “Like what?”

“Nothing, she just enjoys embarrassing me. I actually think it’s her favourite activity,” Camila snorts in amusement, holding her bedroom door open for Lauren. “Honestly, in comparison to Lucy, my friends are crazy. She was so nice and normal.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t realise I liked you, that night.” Lauren laughs at herself, leaving her bag by Camila’s bed, “I was kind of jealous because I figured you had a thing for her so I kept being obnoxiously obvious about squeezing myself between the two of you and bragging about the things you and I had in common.”

“I _did_ notice the jealousy, but I took that as _you_ liking _her_ , not me,” Camila snorts in amusement, hanging Lauren’s jacket on the back of her door, “we’re both just totally useless, aren’t we?”

“Obviously,” Lauren agrees, but she takes her hand in hers as they head back down the stairs, “but we made it to where we were supposed to be _eventually_. Honestly, part of the reason I _didn’t_ just ask you out was because everyone was telling you I _had_ to tell you about the show first. And I just… didn’t want to do that.”

“Same, but about being a _fan_ of the show,” Camila laughs, “figured you’d freak out and have a bad reaction.”

“What? Where’d you get that idea from?” Lauren jokes, and as Camila leads her into the lounge, she almost kisses her again, just because she loves the way Camila looks as she’s laughing, magically lit up with bliss. But she stops herself when she sees the girl stretched out across the slightly smaller of the two couches, flicking through the TV guide.

“China, stop lying out like a slob when we have _company_ ,” Camila loudly announces, and the girl looks up, sees Camila and _then_ Lauren, and something Lauren can only describe as a Grinch-like smile spreads across her face. “Don’t you _dare_ say _anything_.”

The girl completely ignores her, “well, _you_ must be Lauren! Obviously I know that, Camila pretty much watches that show you’re on on _repeat_. I wasn't allowed to talk to you before because she knew I'd expose her ass. It was cute, honestly; she was such a little fangirl.”

“ _Dinah_ ,” Camila practically growls, “shut your damn mouth.”

Dinah flashes an overtly teasing grin. “What, I’m not telling her any new information. She knows you were a stalker fan. And that you had posters on your bedroom wall that are currently hidden in your closet along with the rest of your shrine.”

“ _Dinah_ ,” Camila repeats, but this time it’s more pleading than anything, “be _normal_ , please.”

After a mini stare off between the two, Dinah finally sighs. “Alright, fine. Thought you’d let me have a _little_ fun, but whatever. I’m Dinah, like she said.”

Lauren doesn’t really know what to make of her, but when Camila squeezes her hand and smiles encouragingly, she figures she’ll just introduce herself, even though she knows Dinah knows her name. She ignores the anxiety rising in her chest, because new people are generally just a _no_ from her, and tries to relax.  _You're an actor. Act like you're totally cool_. “I’m Lauren. It's nice to meet you.”

“Told you she was crazy,” Camila murmurs to her, loud enough for Dinah to hear and let out an offended _hey!_ “Well, you are.”

“I was just getting my revenge on you for breaking the no dates rule! Mani and I explicitly said we didn’t want any cute couples being _cute_ in front of us when we’re both sad and single,” Dinah defends herself, “you broke the rules, I had to get _some_ revenge.”

“Actually, you both said no _boys_ ,” Camila sticks her tongue out mockingly, leading Lauren towards their little blanket fort, “and anyway, Lauren and I aren’t a couple yet, so it doesn’t count.”

 _Yet,_ Lauren thinks to herself, trying to push down the excitement at the pit of her stomach, _not a couple_ yet _._

“Is Dinah being dramatic again?” A short woman asks as she walks into the room, carrying two glasses of coke. She places them on the coffee table, and turns to Lauren with a smile as she sits next to Camila in the pillow fort. “It’s lovely to meet you, by the way. I’m Ally.”

If she’s being honest, Ally is the first one of Camila’s friends that Lauren hasn’t been kind of terrified of. She smiles back, genuinely rather than politely, and replies, “you too, Ally. I’m Lauren.”

She jumps slightly when Camila throws an arm around her shoulders, but relaxes into the touch, and she feels a little less daunted by Dinah when she sees the soft smile on her face.

“Well, Mani is on her way back from the dance studio now, and I know what she wants from the pizza place,” Ally says, “so it’s just you guys.”

Camila orders a Hawaiian, much to Lauren’s disgust, and Lauren offers to share a half and half with Ally, while Dinah and Normani share with each other.

As Ally goes to place the order, Camila turns to her, leaning back against the pillows. “You could’ve had a whole one to yourself, you know?”

“Wouldn’t have eaten the entire thing,” Lauren shrugs, “unlike _someone_.”

“It’s not hard to eat a whole pizza,” Camila rolls her eyes, “anyway, do you want something to drink? I bought a bottle of vodka for us. Obviously we won’t have the whole thing because we’d probably die, but it’ll be enough to get us reasonably drunk.”

Lauren nods. “Alright. Shots?”

Camila’s eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, wow, okay. I’ve never actually done shots, I’ve always imagined that it would be _gross_ , since straight vodka tastes like rubbing alcohol.”

“You don’t have to,” Lauren assures her, not wanting to put any pressure on her, “we can drink all civilised if you’d like. I haven't done it for a while myself; I haven't been out clubbing since I left L.A.”

(She doesn't mention that going out and getting completely hammered was pretty much the only coping mechanism she had.)

“No, we’ll do it,” Camila shuffles out of their little blanket fort, and holds out a hand for Lauren, “come on.”

The younger girl helps her up, and leads her back through to the kitchen, immediately grabbing two shot glasses from the cupboard. She goes to a different cabinet, and Lauren is surprised at all of the different bottles of varying types of alcohol in there. “Should I be worried?”

Camila laughs, taking the unopened vodka bottle out and breaking the seal, twisting the cap off. “No, no. We all just keep all our stuff together in there. Nine times out of ten, we respect each other’s stuff, but in the event that one of us drinks someone else’s alcohol, we always replace it.”

She pours out the two shots, and Lauren takes hers pretty much instantly, knocking it back and drinking it, cringing a little at the slight burning in her throat. Camila takes hers straight after, having more of an adverse reaction. Her brown eyes are watering when she pours another shot for the both of them.

“God, how did you do that so easily?” Camila cringes, looking at her newly filled shot glass with disgust. “That was gross.”

“If it was so gross then why did you pour another one?” Lauren asks, taking her second shot with more ease than the first; it’s already affecting her a little since she’d barely eaten today. “There’s no logic in that.”

“Well… I’m obviously dumb,” Camila takes half of the shot, cringes, and then downs the rest, “ugh, alright, I’m going to need a mixer.”

She grabs two normal glasses, as Lauren opens the pack of Reese’s from earlier and eats one, even though she knows she’s got pizza to come. “Want one?”

Camila takes one and eats it as she measures out two more shots and puts them in each normal glass, then grabs a can of coke from the fridge and shares it out in both glasses. “There. Vodka and coke, curtesy of your lovely bartender Camila.”

“Thanks,” Lauren takes it, and then grabs Camila’s hand again, following her back into the lounge and into their blanket fort as Dinah flicks through Netflix for something that’s supposed to be scary but is actually more laughable.

With the liquid courage already kicking in, Lauren snuggles up to Camila, burying her face into her neck. She feels the younger girl’s pounding pulse, and wants nothing more to kiss her right there on her neck, but manages to restrain herself. “Is this okay?”

 _Please don't say no,_ Lauren thinks to herself, because cuddling is her favourite kind of physical affection, and it's definitely helping her feel better around all the new people.

“More than okay,” Camila murmurs, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist and pulling her closer. “Perfect.”

Camila

“I realise that this is the vodka talking,” Camila announces, running her fingers through Lauren’s hair, “but is it just me, or does this bitch need to die? Like I know the whole point is that she’s the survivor girl in like all four movies, but…”

Dinah laughs, and Camila leans forwards to grab another slice of pizza, her other hand still playing with Lauren’s hair. “Totally! She’s making all the worst decisions.”

“Oh, I hate this,” Ally hides behind her hands, “he’s going to get her!”

“And she deserves it!” Normani points out. “She just ran _up_ the stairs when she should’ve run out of the front door. Really, she should’ve left the whole town the second there were brutal _murders_ , but still.”

“In her defence, she put the chain on the door,” Lauren pipes up, head rested on Camila’s shoulder, “she couldn’t just open it and run out.”

“Yeah, but in the time that Ghostface is flopping around on the floor and she’s opening and closing the door like that’ll magically remove the chain, she could’ve just done it herself if she’d stayed calm,” Camila rolls her eyes, “dumbass. I hope Monica Geller is the killer. That would be funny. No, it's Ross, out of all the friends he's the most serial-killer like. But my point is, Sidney sucks.”

“Like you’d stay calm if you were being chased by a murderous psycho?” Lauren rolls her eyes. “Want me to chase you around with a knife and see how calm you are then?”

Camila laughs, and in her blurry, drunk vision, Lauren just looks so beautiful, even if she _is_ making fun of her. She looks actually _happy_ too - even though Camila knows it's the vodka, all of the worry and stress and sadness behind Lauren's eyes had slowly disappeared throughout the night. Thinking about just how beautiful she is, how  _precious, s_ he abandons her pizza crust in favour of pulling Lauren in for a kiss, and even in their little blanket fort, with just the light of the TV illuminating the whole lounge, Dinah sees and wolf-whistles.

“Damn, Camren are getting it _on_ ,” she jokes, “come on, girl on girl action!”

Lauren pulls away, shoulders shaking with laughter, and before she even realises, Lauren has her phone out, squinting at the bright screen. “Ouch, that’s like looking at the sun.”

Camila practically coos at her, kissing her forehead. “Aw, you’re all cute and squinty.”

“Shush, I’m trying to remember how to take a picture,” Lauren frowns, “ _ah!_ Like this. Come here.”

“I’m already all snuggled with you,” Camila says, but scoots even closer, and when Lauren takes a picture, she knows they’ll both look absolutely hammered. “Cute.”

Lauren posts the picture to her Instagram story, then locks her phone, before rubbing at the back of her eyes and grabbing her glass. “I want a cigarette. Camz, come with me?”

Hating the idea of being around secondhand smoke, but not wanting to leave her by herself, Camila nods, and follows Lauren outside, watching as the older girl hops up to sit on the wall that separates the front of their house from next door’s. She lights up a cigarette and takes a drag, before flashing Camila a sheepish smile.

“It’s annoying that I find you smoking so attractive,” Camila sighs, “because on anyone else, I think it’s disgusting.”

“You think I’m attractive?” Lauren asks, and when she blows out more smoke, Camila nods rather dreamily. “Aw. I think you’re attractive too. I honestly really want to kiss you, but I know you don’t like cigarettes, and I’ll taste like them.”

“Well, I have some mints you can have, and then we’re all good. But honestly, with the pizza, I pretty much taste like a whole piece of garlic, so either way, we’re both as bad as each other.” Camila says, and when Lauren takes another drag of her cigarette, she blurts out, “can I try it?”

“Nope,” Lauren shakes her head, “you’re not getting addicted on my watch.”

“ _You’re_ not addicted and you’ve been casually smoking for three years,” Camila points out, but she was only messing around, anyway. “But anyway, I was just testing you. Seeing if you’d _let_ me do it. If you’re a good or bad influence. I’m smart.”

“Smart. I like smart girls.” Lauren smiles, taking another drag of her cigarette, and closing her eyes as she blows out the smoke. “I like _you.”_

Camila frowns. “Yeah? Even though you could have anyone you wanted?”

“I want you,” Lauren says simply, and she fixes her with a small smile before yawning, “wow, alcohol makes me sleepy.”

She blows out another puff of smoke, and not wanting to encourage her but also just intrigued, Camila asks, “can you blow smoke rings?”

“No,” Lauren laughs, “I can try, though!”

She takes another drag, and after she inhales the smoke, she blows it back out, opening and closing her mouth sort of like a goldfish, but it doesn’t work. Camila laughs, and Lauren fixes her with a sad pout.

“You’re cute,” Camila assures her, and when Lauren stamps out her cigarette against the wall and throws the butt into the neighbour’s front garden, Camila pretends not to notice. She stops her on her way in, pouring a few tic tacs from a packet into her hand and immediately shoving them into Lauren’s mouth, having a couple herself, too. “There. Oh, _and_ …”

As they step into the hallway, she grabs the air freshening spray, tells Lauren to close her eyes, and sprays her over, and herself for good measure. “There. Now I can cuddle you.”

“I’m acceptable now?” Lauren raises her eyebrows, and as she heads back to the lounge, she almost trips over a stray one of Dinah’s shoes. “Hah, oops. Hey, Camz, do you think I should go back to the show after I finish college?”

Camila keeps her answer to herself as they make their way back to their blanket fort; she waits until Lauren has sat down, leant against the pillows, and they’ve pulled their main blanket over them. She keeps her voice quieter as she replies; “I don’t know, Lo. You should do what makes you happy.”

Lauren lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, but her response is hushed, too. “I don’t know what makes me happy. You make me happy. Right now makes me happy. I should become a physicist and figure out how to pause time. That would work.”

Camila smiles, pulling her in for a kiss. Lauren tastes like mint and cigarette smoke, but also something underneath, the thing she finds oh so intoxicating when it comes to kissing Lauren. “You make me happy too. But I’m serious, do what you want to do, not what people tell you to do.”

“I need… honestly, I need a fan’s perspective, and you were one, so…” Lauren looks at her expectantly. “What do you think?”

“I think… I think that honestly, people are going to be heartbroken when they realise you’ve left. Not just because your character is so popular, but like…” Camila squeezes her eyes shut, trying to push through the clouds the alcohol has produced in her brain, “um… because she means a lot to people. Like, seeing the relationship between Vanessa and Emilia, it’s good because it doesn’t even focus on the fact that they’re two girls, you know. It’s just like, hey, these two characters are in love and they're also trying to track down a serial killer. And I’m guessing you leaving means there’s going to be a breakup.”

“Do you want me to tell you what happens? I will,” Lauren asks her, and if she’s being honest, Camila is actually _behind_ on the show. She still hasn’t watched the most recent episode, and there’s only three more episodes left to air. “But I’ll tell you. I know you won’t tell anyone.”

“You guys do realise that your blanket fort isn’t soundproof, right?” Dinah announces, “And _shh_ , we’re watching a movie, here. But please tell us what happens on your show, Lauser, then I can leak it to a news site and make _bank_.”

She’s kidding, obviously, but Lauren scowls. “You’re _mean_.”

“Kidding, kidding,” Dinah clarifies, and Lauren relaxes, grabbing what’s left of her drink and knocking it back. “But seriously, no spoilers, because Mila got me into it and I actually kind of like it, so…”

Lauren looks to Camila, glazed over and tired. “Camz? Can I tell you? I need to talk with _someone_ , and I’m drunk so I don’t really care about my contract right now.”

Ordinarily, Camila would tell her that it’s a bad idea, that she’ll just watch it when it airs, but Lauren looks so desperate to get it out that she nods. “Alright. Come on, let’s go get another drink and you can tell me in the kitchen.”

Lauren nods, following her through to the kitchen, carrying both of their glasses. She places them on the counter, watching as Camila busies herself with making drinks. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Mhm. If it’ll make you feel better to talk about it, then sure.” Camila smiles. “Go on.”

“Well… um, in episode… I think either ten or eleven, I can’t remember… basically Lucy and I sneak into the school for a little romantic rendezvous or whatever. But then the killer is there, and there’s this chase scene and when we get to the door it’s locked so I tell Lucy to go on and basically try to fight the killer off and get stabbed and the cliffhanger is like me passing out, basically to make the audience think I’m dead.” Lauren bluntly explains, and Camila is honestly relieved that Lauren told her, because she doubts she could wait a week with that hanging over her; things may be different now, but Vanessa still means a lot to her. “Um, and then the next episode, I’m in hospital, and then I’m okay again, and I dump Lucy and leave the town like _any_ sane person would after getting stabbed. To be honest, I’d personally leave any town that had a serial killer running around in it. Don’t even need the stabbing to get me gone. Just the _risk_ of stabbing is enough to freak me out. Stabbing doesn't sound like a word anymore. _Hah,_ stabbing.”

“Right, okay…” Camila takes all of that information in, “yeah, it’s safe to say that people are going to be heartbroken. Not just because of the cliffhanger, but also because of the whole _breakup_. That’s really going to crush people, especially the ones who identify with the relationship and your characters.”

Lauren watches her carefully as she pours a shot of vodka into the glasses of coke she’d filled up. “So I should go back once I finish my degree?”

“Not if you don’t want to. It’s your life, you shouldn’t live it for other people.” Camila shakes her head. “Um, what about Emilia? Are they giving her another love interest?”

“Yeah.” Lauren nods, and Camila figures maybe _that_ will placate the fans, but then Lauren continues. “They’re going to pair her with Jake.”

 _“Jake?”_ Camila’s inner fangirl rage bursts out without her control. Jake is played by Keaton Stromberg, an ex-boyfriend of Lauren’s, and Camila absolutely _hates_ his character. He’s nothing more than the stereotypical douchebag football player, with _no_ redeeming qualities whatsoever. “They can’t do _that_!”

Lauren blinks, like she hadn’t expected that response. “Oh. Well, that’s what they’re thinking of doing, Lucy told me the other week. Emilia _is_ bisexual, remember? I’m the gay one in the show. Feel bad for Lucy, I think she wanted to _puke_ at the thought of kissing a boy. Should've just put her with like, Vero's character or something. That would make them both very happy.”

If she was sober and not completely blinded by her hatred for a fictional character, Camila would've asked  _why_ that would make Lucy and Vero happy, but she's far too focused on the  _blasphemy_ the show is about to commit, and she knows that if she  _hadn't_ met Lauren, she would've been even more upset. Her favourite ship getting broken up when one of them was nearly killed, one of them getting shoved into a hetero pairing and the other - her _favourite -_ vanishing completely. It would be the worst possible outcome.

“Yeah, but… but that’s just- they’re going to get so much backlash for that,” Camila stammers, shaking her head, “I feel like these big writers and producers and directors don’t entirely understand just how _passionate_ fanbases can be, especially when it comes to shipping. And _especially_ when it's LGBT in any respect.”

“So you think they’re going to get hate?” Lauren asks, taking a sip of her drink. “That means I should go back, right?”

“As a fan, I would say _one hundred_ percent yes.” Camila honestly answers, still a little mad that they’re going to pair Emilia with _Jake._ “But as your friend, I want you to do what makes you happy. If that’s quitting acting all together, then I fully support you.”

“You’re more than my friend, don't _friendzone_ me.” Lauren reminds her, and when she thinks about it, she sighs, “I could… I could compromise. I got a call the other day. They’re already writing up the scripts and preparing for season four, and even though I’ve been super adamant that I don’t want to be in it and I don’t want anything to do with it, they offered me a two-episode guest role. The last two episodes of the season. _But_ that’s under the assumption that I’m coming back for season five, and I don't know if I _am_.”

She lets out the cutest little frustrated scream, and Camila leans in to kiss the tip of her nose. Lauren blinks in surprise, and mumbles, "you're blurry," but otherwise doesn't comment.

“Do what makes you happy, Lo,” Camila says for what feels like the one millionth time. “You told me yourself, you love to act. Do you miss it? Right now, do you miss it?”

“Right now, I miss when the room is steady.” Lauren comments, and Camila lets out a laugh before she can think about it; she finds it quite interesting that alcohol is what pushed them to have a serious conversation like this. “But I do. I miss being on set because they’re like my family. I miss acting because it’s like the only _healthy_ coping mechanism I have for my dumbass anxiety, but then that wouldn't even be a thing if I wasn't _famous_. It helps because I’m _literally_ not me, I’m just that character. But then _being_ me sucks so much that I had to drop the thing that made me so happy just because of the _consequences_ of that thing, you know? I sort of… switch between love and hate for the show. I love it because I love to act and I love being on set and seeing how everything is made, but then I hate what happened because of it. It simultaneously saved and ruined my life. You understand?”

“Uh… no,” Camila tries to get that, “you mean like the fame? Because you don’t like your fans?”

“I don’t not like them! I just don’t like the ones that don’t see me as a real _person_.” Lauren sighs. “I like the ones like you, the nice ones. I like you the _most_.”

Camila is quiet for a moment, but then she asks the question that she _wouldn’t_ ask if she wasn’t drunk. “What’s going to happen? After you graduate. If you do go back to L.A., go back to _acting_ , what’s going to happen to our… friendship. Relationship… whatever you want to call it. I still have another year left after you leave.”

“Then I’ll use my amazing driving skills to come up here every weekend to see you, just like I'm going to use them to chauffeur you around for the rest of my life,” Lauren announces, “I really like you, Camz. That’s not gonna change even if I _am_ back in L.A.”

“You promise?” Camila asks, holding out her pinky. “Pinky swear to me.”

Lauren smiles, wrapping her pinky around Camila’s, and then pulling her in for a kiss. When she pulls away, she whispers against her lips, “I _promise,_ Camz.”


	15. Chapter 15

Camila

“You’re from Miami.” Camila observes as she takes her usual seat next to Lauren in their Friday morning lecture. Lauren looks up in surprise, and before she can question her, Camila adds. “ _I’m_ from Miami.”

“Um… yeah. That’s all factual?” Lauren frowns, and murmurs a small _thank you_ when Camila passes her a blueberry muffin, “Why are you-”

“Do you have any plans to go back there over Thanksgiving and Christmas?” Camila asks. “I mean, obviously I figure you’ll be back there for Christmas break, but a lot of people stay here for Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, I’m flying back there on Saturday the 18th.” Lauren answers, and Camila curses under her breath at the answer. “What? Are you staying here?”

“No, no, I’m going home, but I’m flying on the Friday night after my last class.” Camila says, biting down on her bottom lip in thought. “I was going to see if you wanted to be plane buddies, but you’ve already booked. Okay, new plan… can I see you over break?”

Lauren nods. “Of course. Do you want to come over and meet my weird family?”

She almost wonders if it’s too soon; Lauren isn’t her girlfriend yet, even though Camila intends to ask her. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! My parents know you exist, I told them about you pretty much as soon as we made friends because I was kind of hyped that I actually managed to _make_ a friend completely by myself.” Lauren shrugs, and the admission just makes Camila think she’s even cuter. “If you’re not sure, though…”

“No, I’m totally down for that,” Camila assures her, “and in return, you can meet _my_ weird family. If you want.”

“I want,” Lauren grins, flicking through her annotated copy of one of the novels they’re studying; Camila hadn’t bothered buying it, and just downloaded an illegal PDF online, keeping her scant annotations in a Word document. “You have a break after this class, right?”

Camila hums in affirmation. “Why?”

“Want to make it a date and go for lunch?” Lauren asks, and Camila nods pretty much immediately, “Nice. I saw a cute little sandwich shop just down the road from my apartment, but if you don’t want to go off campus-”

“That sounds good, Lo,” Camila assures her, and under the desk, she squeezes her hand, not sure about physical affection in public. She doesn’t know what Lauren is comfortable with; after all, she’s not out. “It’s a date.”

Lauren grins. “Yeah. I love that.”

When Lauren looks back to her computer to fill out a question she’d obviously left in the seminar preparation, Camila checks her phone. Her Instagram has a few more followers; ever since Lauren had accidentally posted a picture of the two of them on her public Instagram story on Halloween, some of the fans had tracked down Camila’s personal Instagram. It wasn’t hard; Lauren follows her, and it’s not like Camila’s account is private, so people could easily match her and the girl in Lauren’s picture. Granted, it’s not been that aggressive; nobody has interacted with her except for the few more likes she gets on pictures, and she’s only gained a couple of hundred followers, probably because Lauren didn’t tag her.

Lauren had told her that a couple of fans had found her private Instagram through Camila’s, though. But, since she has the page on private, she simply denies whatever follow requests she gets.

She goes to talk to Lauren again, but the professor starts the lecture, so she pays attention to him. She makes the occasional notes on her laptop, and when the professor goes too fast and changes slides while she’s still typing, Lauren – being a faster typist than her – angles her laptop screen towards Camila so she can get the last few notes.

Once the lecture is over, and Camila is packing her things away, Lauren takes up the conversation again.

“So, impromptu lunch date aside, what else do you have planned for the day?” Lauren asks her, pulling her backpack onto her back. “Anything interesting?”

“Well, it’s a Friday, so obviously I’m hitting up _all_ the clubs,” Camila jokes, throwing her own backpack over one shoulder, “total party animal, you know me. Seriously, though I’m doing absolutely nothing.”

“Want to come sleep at my place?” Lauren asks, and it’s the first time she’s ever extended an invite like that to Camila. “I figured I could make dinner, and then we can have a quiet night in.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Camila grins, even though she _had_ had plans to catch up on _Silverhollow_ tonight; she’d seriously neglected watching it, and she’s pretty sure that tomorrow’s episode is the attack on Lauren. Vanessa. _Whatever_. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“I’ve lived away from home since I was seventeen. You pick up a few things,” Lauren shrugs, surprising Camila completely and taking hold of her hand as they walk down the stairs to exit the building, “it’s that or takeout every night, and when you have a personal trainer, they’re never happy about it.”

“You have a personal trainer?” Camila asks; she’d never been super into exercise and going to the gym herself, and while Lauren has mentioned that she goes, she figures just being a casual gym-goer is a different thing to having a straight up _trainer._ “Why would you do that to yourself?”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “I don’t anymore, I left her back in L.A. She pretty much came with the show, plus there’s a lot of pressure in the industry to basically be a stick thin model, and I feel like I eat chips and salsa a little too much to get away with it. It was either _stop_ eating chips or _keep_ eating chips and get a trainer. Obviously, I opted for the latter.”

“Duh, you can’t give up _chips_.” Camila agrees, because that’s the obvious choice. “What have you been doing since getting here, then? Exercise wise, I mean. I’m interested; I’ve never been super sporty, so… my exercise is walking up and down all the fucking _stairs._ ”

“I joined the student gym, and I tend to go there after class on some days. Not _every_ day, because I’m not a sociopath, but like… three days a week?” Lauren shrugs. “I just do an hour or so on the treadmill and _then_ go home and immediately crack open a jar of salsa and a bag of tortilla chips.”

“The right way to do things,” Camila grins, swinging their hands as they head off campus, “so where’s this sandwich shop?”

“Like, halfway between my apartment and campus, so literally a five minute walk.” Lauren assures her. “What’re you in the mood for for dinner tonight? Chef Lauren takes requests.”

“Ooh, I get to choose?” Camila hums in thought. “Lasagne?”

“Done.” Lauren smiles. “I’ll grab the ingredients from the store on my way home. Come round about… six?”

“Okay,” Camila nods, and _just_ to make sure, “This is a _date_ , right?”

“Of course,” Lauren confirms, and Camila’s whole heart flutters. “This lunch date is _un_ official, but tonight is our official second date.”

Camila blinks in surprise. “Okay, so… there are _unofficial_ dates? Aren’t all dates just _dates_?”

“Well, _yes_ , but also no,” Lauren says, and when Camila looks at her like she’s crazy, she blushes, laughs, and adds, “I’m not insane, I swear. For me, anyway, in the early stages it’s like… when it’s a super serious kind of situation, like our date the other week, _and_ tonight, then it’s an official date. But if it’s just a casual thing, like right now, then… it’s not.”

Again, Camila looks at her like she’s crazy. “Uh… I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Alright then, maybe I’m just weird,” Lauren laughs, squeezing her hand, “but you get what I mean, right? Casual dates are different.”

“I got that part, yeah. You know what? I’ll go with your system,” Camila smiles, and when Lauren sends her that adorably goofy grin, she’s desperate to push her up against the nearest school building and kiss her senseless. “ _God_ , I really want to kiss you.”

“I want to kiss you too,” Lauren murmurs, and for a moment, Camila thinks that she _will_ , but then Lauren looks away and squeezes her hand, “oh, come on, in here.”

Lauren holds open the door to a little café for her, and Camila thanks her and walks inside. She finds a table in the corner, with two little couch chairs, and Lauren sits across from her, grabbing one of the menus and browsing through it.

Camila grabs the other menu and figures she’ll just get a grilled cheese, and when she tells Lauren that, the older girl nods and heads to the counter to order for them. When she comes back, Camila tries to offer her the money for her lunch, but the older girl shakes her head.

“My treat, Camz.” Lauren assures her. “You paid for the last date, it’s only fair.”

“Alright, I guess you’re right.” Camila begrudgingly replies. “Anyway. Have you made any decisions about the show yet?”

“Nope,” Lauren casually responds, “I’ve considered your drunken advice, though. And I know that a lot of people are going to be upset tomorrow. I’m actually kind of _nervous_ about it. Keana texted me this morning asking how I felt about it.”

“Keana is so hot,” Camila blurts out without thinking, and when Lauren blinks in surprise, she quickly apologises, “sorry.”

“No, I agree,” Lauren says, surprising Camila completely, “tell me about your other celebrity crushes.”

“Alright, but you were always my number one. Remember that,” Camila says, “no jealousy.”

Lauren puts a hand on her chest, right over her heart. “I swear I won’t get jealous. Now _spill_.”

“Well, on _Silverhollow_ , Keana, Lucy and Vero.” Camila lists, and when Lauren coughs loudly and expectantly, she snorts in amusement. “So much for no jealousy. You know you’re on that list too.”

“Why didn’t you _say_ that, then?” Lauren sulks, pouting like a petulant child. “Thought I was your number one.”

“You _are_ , I already said that, I was-” Camila cuts herself off when she sees a flash of a smirk on Lauren’s face, “you’re totally winding me up right now, aren’t you?”

“Mhm, it’s _so_ easy,” Lauren breaks, laughing. Then, she rests her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, looking over at Camila in total adoration. “But I’ll be a grown up now. Tell me your other crushes.”

Camila laughs. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Done,” Lauren answers, “Hayley Williams for _sure_. Emilia Clarke. Matty Healy. Kit Harington. Richard Madden. Should I go on, or are you jealous?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” Camila says, even though she kind of _is_ , “I have a question – how did you _not_ get a crush on Lucy? Or vice versa? Because like, she’s hot and you have to basically make out with her for a living.”

“That’d be weird, she’s like my sister,” Lauren cringes, “plus, she’s dating—you can keep a secret, right?”

Camila nods, grateful that Lauren trusts her. “Of course.”

“She’s dating Vero.” Lauren admits, and Camila blinks in surprise. Admittedly, she hadn’t seen _that_ one coming, and then Lauren surprises her even more by adding; “they’ve been dating since season one.”

“Oh my god, _what_?” Camila reacts. “So… all of the crazy fan theories about _you_ and Lucy…”

“Were actually right, just the wrong co-star,” Lauren finishes for her, letting out a little snicker of amusement. “It’s funny, because even though I hated it all so much, them being obsessed with the idea of me and Lucy dating in real life actually threw them off Lucy and Vero and gave them some privacy. I guess everything really _does_ have a silver lining. If not for me, at least for them.”

“I will say, I wouldn’t have guessed it.” Camila admits. “I knew they were _friends_ obviously, but I seriously wouldn’t have made that connection.”

“Yeah, well…” Lauren shrugs, “that’s a good thing. Relationships in the public eye can be very fucking hard, because everyone seems to think that just because you’re open about it, _they’re_ entitled to voice their opinion on your relationship. But really, the only people whose opinions matter are the two people _in_ the relationship. It’s happened a lot with me; people really hated on Luis, and even though he never _said_ it, I think that’s why he dumped me.”

“I’m sorry for how much hate your exes have gotten,” Camila apologises on behalf of the fan base, even though she never did anything like that. “It must suck to have people even doubt the validity of your relationship with them.”

“Yeah, well…” Lauren shrugs like it’s nothing, but Camila can see that sadness behind her eyes, “that’s why I want to just… keep things quiet, for now. If that’s okay? I just… don’t want anyone to ruin what I have with you before it’s even started. When we’re… _you know,_ we can talk about what we want to do.”

“Hey,” Camila sends her a comforting smile, and while she’s slightly distracted by what looks like the waiter with their food, she focuses her attention on Lauren. “Nothing could scare me away, alright? I promise.”

Lauren

She immediately blows the final candle out as soon as she lights it. _It’s too much, you idiot._ Didn’t Camila want simplicity?

 _No,_ Lauren thinks to herself. _Romanticism_ is important. She needs to literally make Camila feel like she’ll never see anything more romantic in her life.

She relights the candle, before quickly adjusting the slightly off-centre placemat on one side of the table. _There_ , she thinks, looking around the candlelit room. _Total fire hazard, but at least it’s romantic._

She checks on the lasagne in the oven, turning the temperature down, before double checking the time. It’s five-thirty, which means she still has time to perfect her makeup and decide between the two dresses she’d been stuck between. She’s already done her hair and most of her makeup, and as she walks into her bedroom and spies herself in the mirror that doubles as her closet door, she thinks she looks pretty ridiculous, all glammed up but wearing a ragged old school gym t-shirt and a pair of _Scooby-Doo_ pyjama bottoms that Vero had bought her as a joke after she’d drunkenly likened _Silverhollow_ to a slightly more dramatic, stretched out _Scooby-Doo_ episode.

She pulls out the two dresses; one floor length black dress, which she’d worn to a movie premiere about a year ago. Usually, she only wears the dress for one night, then her stylist gives them back to whoever they came from, but she’d adored it so much that she’d bought it. The other is an above the knee, off the shoulder velvet red dress, which she’d _also_ liked too much to let go.

She tries them both on, stressing out when she looks in the mirror, remembering the comments some people loved to make online about her body. _Don’t think about that,_ Lauren quickly scolds herself, and it doesn’t entirely squish the anxiety rising in her chest, but it’s not as bad. _You know that Camila thinks you’re attractive. It doesn’t matter what assholes on the internet think._

She takes the black dress off after looking herself over in the mirror and _still_ feeling torn between the two. Figuring she might as well ask the girl she’s trying to impress, she sends a quick text to Camila.

**Lauren (5:39PM): Think fast! Red or black?**

**Camz (5:40PM): for what?**

**Lauren (5:40PM): Just pick one!**

**Camz (5:41PM): …………… red?**

**Lauren (5:41PM): Thanks, Camz!**

She puts her phone down and grabs the red dress of its hanger, quickly changing into it and looking herself over in the mirror again as she folds her pyjamas up and puts them on one of her pillows. She runs her hand down the length of the dress and meets her own gaze in the mirror, murmuring a few affirmations to herself; she’d been trying to figure things out, and apparently affirmations can help with anxiety. She pushes down the critiques, and tells herself that she looks good, that Camila will like the lasagne she’d made, that the date tonight will go well.

 _Definitely_ _need to touch up my makeup, but then everything will be ready_ , Lauren thinks to herself, and she goes to head into her bathroom, but quickly pauses to straighten out her bedsheets, noticing a crease in the otherwise impeccably made bed.

She quickly touches up her makeup in the bathroom, before she runs her fingers through her hair, stares at her own reflection, before _finally_ deciding she looks okay- _no, Lauren, you look_ good _, not just okay. Good_. Heading out of the bathroom and back into the lounge, she makes sure that door _and_ her bedroom door are shut, and then switches the television on. She connects her Spotify to the TV, and shuffles a playlist of slower songs, turning the volume down just to make sure she has the perfect amount of _mood music_.

She double-checks the lasagne; she’d made two little ones as opposed to one big one, giving them a bowl each. Then, once she realises there’s nothing to keep her occupied until Camila gets here, she resorts to pacing back and forth between the kitchen and the lounge, waiting for that fateful knock on the door.

When it finally comes, Lauren sucks in a deep breath, and tries to act like she’s not at all nervous. _Camila will like it. You know she will_.

She crosses over to the door, and after looking through the peephole, just to double check that it’s really Camila and not a neighbour asking for something, she opens the door and flashes the younger girl a small smile. “Hi.”

“Wow,” Camila blurts out, looking her up and down, and Lauren feels a flood of relief wash over her. “You look… wow.”

Blushing, Lauren runs a hand through her hair, stepping aside to let Camila in. “You really think?”

“Yeah,” Camila says, but she’s a little distracted looking around the apartment. “Candlelit dinner?”

She figures she must’ve gone a little overboard, but she’s also thankful for her apartment’s dimmer switches; otherwise they’d be in a lot lower lighting. “I can turn the lights on if-”

“No, no, I love the idea. Super romantic,” Camila assures her, and when she turns around, Lauren takes a real look at her for the first time, and she almost _drools_. Camila is wearing a _suit_. It’s obviously a woman’s suit, especially with the way the shirt is hugging her every curve, and how the top buttons are purposely left undone to show off a little bit of cleavage, and it’s kind of driving Lauren _nuts_.

“Okay, next time you dress like this, I’m going to need a warning,” Lauren manages to get out, and Camila flashes her a smirk, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist as the older girl plays with the black tie she has on. “I… love it.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, baby. And by _not so bad,_ I mean you look absolutely flawless.” Camila compliments, and the pet name makes her melt, “I guess the dress is why you asked me red or black?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hums in reply, drinking in Camila’s absolute beauty. “Are you happy with your choice?”

“Most definitely,” Camila meets her gaze for a moment, and all Lauren can see in her eyes is total adoration before she pulls her in for a quick kiss. “You are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

Lauren sends her a dazed smile, and she’s in a total haze of bliss until she snaps out of it when she realises, “the lasagne! Okay, um, follow me.”

Lauren takes Camila’s hand and leads her over to the dining table which she’d set earlier. She pulls out the younger girl’s chair, and waits expectantly for her to sit. When she does, she announces, “damn, Lo. You’ve turned this place into a fancy restaurant.”

Lauren blushes, and she makes her way over to the kitchen, opening the oven up and grabbing her oven gloves, taking out the two bowls. She puts them both on a plate, and lets them have a few minutes to cool on the counter, in which she cracks open a bottle of red wine and heads back to the table, pouring out two glasses.

She puts the bottle back on the counter and grabs the lasagnes, carrying them over to the table. She sets the first one in front of Camila, and the second on her own placemat, before she tosses the oven gloves away and sits down, grabbing her fork. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Camila pauses just before she goes to shove her first mouthful in. “Thanks for the warning.”

She blows on her forkful for a moment, and _then_ eats it, still cringing at how hot it is, but once she’s eaten it, she gives Lauren an enthusiastic thumbs up. “This is really good, Lo. You should’ve gone to like, culinary school or something.”

After Lauren has had her own first mouthful, she laughs. “Alright, now I know you’re just sucking up.”

“No, I’m serious!” Camila assures her, pausing to eat a little more, and then announcing, “It’s better than anything I could do.”

Lauren smiles, “I’m glad you like it. To be honest, I expected _something_ would go wrong, with my luck. I figured it’d end up being the food, but I guess not.”

Camila laughs, looking around at the candles on all the counters. “Let’s hope it’s not the candles falling over, either.”

“Oh my god, don’t say that,” Lauren snorts, “I almost went with _only_ candlelight, but then I figured that’d be so excessive, so I opted with ten candles and the actual lights on low. Just to be safe.”

Camila smiles, “what made you want to do the whole candlelit dinner thing, anyway?”

“It’s romantic,” Lauren shrugs, “I almost didn’t do it, because I started freaking out that something might go wrong, and I had a little debate with myself, because it’s _fucking_ romantic, but my brain was like _yeah, it’s not romantic if she burns to death_.”

She takes a sip of her wine to calm any residual nerves, before holding up her glass for a toast. Camila raises her eyebrows, picking up her own glass. “What’s this? A toast to not burning to death?”

Lauren bursts out laughing, and honestly, it’s more original than anything she was going to say, so she nods. “Yeah, go on, then. A toast to not burning to death.”

They clink their glasses together, and Lauren takes another sip before putting hers down. Camila wolfs down her lasagne like she hasn’t eaten in a week, even though Lauren knows she’d had a grilled cheese _and_ a quarter of Lauren’s chicken club sandwich as well.

When she finishes it, she looks at Lauren with her puppy dog eyes. “Is there any more?”

Unable to resist, Lauren has another couple of forkfuls and then pushes her bowl over to Camila.  “There.”

Camila pauses, fork at the ready. “Are you sure you don’t want this?”

“You wanted more, so,” Lauren punctuates this with a shrug. “Go on.”

“We’ll share,” Camila says, so Lauren picks up her fork and finishes the last remaining bit of her portion with Camila. When they’re finished, the younger girl leans back in her seat and lets out a loud breath. “Well. That was _lovely_ , thank you Chef Jauregui. I give this establishment five stars. I will leave the written review later on your Yelp page.”

“You’re welcome,” Lauren smiles, and when she takes the bowls away and puts them in the sink, she gets two little ice cream cones out of the freezer, unwrapping them and passing one over to Camila. “Dessert.”

“Oh, thank you.” Camila smiles, taking the ice cream cone and demolishing it in minutes. Lauren is genuinely in _awe_ at how fast she eats; she could probably enter some kind of competition.

Lauren is still munching on her cone when Camila is finished, and not _really_ knowing what to talk about, she asks, “so, tell me some juicy gossip about your friends. I believe I’m owed for my revelations at lunchtime.”

Camila hums. “I don’t know, there’s not really much to tell. Ally’s been with her boyfriend for like three years, Dinah and Normani both constantly complain about how single they are yet have the _highest_ standards known to man, and I’ve only ever had one relationship, so…”

Lauren blinks in surprise. “Wait, really?”

“One _real_ one,” Camila clarifies, “I sort of had an awkward ‘relationship’ with a girl in high school in my junior year. It lasted a month. The second I kind of broached the topic of her coming out she dumped me.”

Lauren cringes, finishing off her ice cream. “Closet case?”

“Mhm. She asked _me_ out, and then insisted she was straight,” Camila replies, “then when I tried talking to her about it, she’d get all weird, and when she asked me out the second time, that’s when I asked her about coming out and she changed her mind and stopped talking to me.”

“Yikes,” Lauren remarks, but she imagines that _she’d_ probably have been like that, under different circumstances. “What about the _real_ relationship?”

“That was in freshman year. She was a junior.” Camila tells her. “We met at the LGBT society social and hit it off. Went on a couple of dates and then she asked me to be her girlfriend, and honestly I had _no_ idea what I was doing the whole time. We were together for like… six months? Broke up in the June of my freshman year. Since then I’ve been on a couple of like, casual dates that never went anywhere. And then I met you.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “So… this _isn’t_ a couple of casual dates that aren’t going to go anywhere?”

“I thought you’d know that by now,” Camila murmurs, reaching across the table to take Lauren’s hand, “you’re… you’re different.”

Lauren shivers at Camila’s touch. “Good different?”

“Definitely a good different.” Camila replies, thumb rubbing against Lauren’s knuckles. “And I can’t wait to fall asleep next to you tonight.”

“Same, but you’re sleeping in that suit, because I now make it _law_ that you’re never ever allowed to wear anything else,” Lauren jokes, standing up and blowing out the candle on the table. She picks up her wine glass and heads over to the couch, beckoning for Camila to follow her.

“You really like the suit, huh?” Camila asks as Lauren places her drink on the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “I thought you might like it.”

“I can assure you, it is _heavenly_ ,” Lauren comments, watching as Camila sits down next to her. She scoots closer, reaching out and playing with the loose tie around Camila’s neck. “How long did it take you to tie this?”

“Way too long. Literally had to google it, and then when _that_ didn’t work out, Ally finally offered to do it for me,” Camila admits with a laugh, letting Lauren pull it even looser, until eventually it comes untied. She takes it off, smoothing down the collar of Camila’s shirt, watching as she shrugs off the suit jacket and rolls up her sleeves, and if anything, that just makes her look _hotter_. “And I _love_ your dress. It’s a premiere one, right?”

“From a Harper’s Bazaar event, yeah,” Lauren nods, “I liked it too much to let it go back to the stylist, so I bought it.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Really? You never seemed the type to buy expensive dresses just because you could.”

“I’m not. I’ve only done it twice,” Lauren shrugs, “I know when we were playing _would you rather_ , I said I’d rather be rich than famous, but I honestly don’t want to be _either_ of those things. All I want is to have enough money to never have to _worry_ , and a nice home to live in with the love of my life.”

Camila smiles, and it’s like Lauren’s whole world lights up. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, too.”

Not overthinking it, not worrying like she has about everything else in her life like she has for the last few years, Lauren just blurts it out. “Be my girlfriend.”

Camila blinks like she hadn’t expected it, and honestly, _Lauren_ hadn’t expected she’d actually _say_ it, either. She’d wanted to; she knows by now that she wants to be with Camila for real, but she didn’t think she’d have the guts to ask.

“No, _what_!” Camila exclaims, and Lauren feels like she’s been kicked in the stomach. “ _I’m_ supposed to be the one who asks that!”

When the words sink in, Lauren _still_ doesn’t let herself feel relief, because _Camila said no_. “You… you don’t want to?”

“No, oh my god, I one hundred percent _do_ want to be,” Camila assures her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and Lauren practically melts against her, all the tension in her body relieved. “It’s just- I was supposed to ask that! You stole my line! How am I supposed to establish my dominance _now?_ ”

“I- what?” Lauren frowns in confusion, the panic rising in her chest and Camila's words feeling awfully jumbled to her. “So… you want to be my girlfriend, but you’re upset that I asked you first?”

“Yeah, so take it back,” Camila folds her arms across her chest, and Lauren can’t tell if she’s joking or not until she breaks and laughs, “no, I’m kidding. It _was_ supposed to be me asking you, though. Didn’t have a plan for it or anything, but I was planning on being the one who asks.”

“I- will you answer me?” Lauren asks, and she knows she’s being dumb, knows that her anxiety is making her look like an idiot. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Camila smiles, pulling her in for a kiss. When they part, she shrugs, and announces, “ _that_ depends on if _you’ll_ be _my_ girlfriend.”

“Yes,” Lauren murmurs, meeting Camila’s gentle brown gaze, and feeling instantly calm, “I will.”

Camila beams, and it’s like the whole room lights up from the joy in her smile. “Then I’ll be yours.”

And for the first time in years, Lauren remembers what it's like to be  _calm_. 


	16. Chapter 16

Camila

Lauren Jauregui is her girlfriend.

Lauren Michelle Jauregui, award winning actress and star of TV sensation  _Silverhollow_  is her  _girlfriend._  The statement is almost  _laughable;_ is she in some kind of weird fever dream? It's kind of hilarious how  _weird_ her life is; not only is she dating the woman she used to idolise, but Lauren Michelle Jauregui, the prettiest girl in the whole world and one of her best friends, is her girlfriend.  _Lauren Jauregui is her girlfriend_. 

“Hi, babe,” says her  _girlfriend_ ,  _Lauren Jauregui_ , holding out a Styrofoam coffee cup and a paper bag with a muffin in it. “Beat you to it.”

“So you did,” Camila observes, and she  _really_  wants to kiss her, but that’s the thing about dating  _Lauren Jauregui._ Anyone could be watching. “You look beautiful today. But you  _always_  look beautiful, so… nothing new.”

Lauren smiles. “Thanks, Camz. You look stunning, too.”

Camila finds that hard to believe, because she’s literally just wearing a ratty old sweater and a pair of ripped jeans; mostly because she only has three classes today and she  _really_  can’t be bothered getting herself all prettied up for them. “I really want to kiss you.”

Lauren meets her gaze for a moment; she looks a little surprised. She expects to be shot down, expects Lauren to take her somewhere private for a good-morning kiss, but instead, the older girl just cocks an eyebrow as if she’s challenging her.

“Then kiss me.”

Camila blinks in surprise. “In public?”

Lauren laughs, taking her hand and pulling her into an alleyway between the coffee shop and the university building next to it. “You  _are_  my girlfriend. Pretty sure you’re allowed to do that.”

“You’re not out.” Camila observes; there’s been nothing in the media about Lauren, no casual coming-out tweet, and yet she’s asking her to  _kiss_  her right in the middle of campus? Granted, they’re down an alleyway, but it’s  _still_  public, “Or did I miss something? And you said that you wanted to keep things low key.”

“Just because I don’t want to make a big deal about my sexuality doesn’t mean I’m in a closet. Besides,  _low key_  is different to  _secret._ ” Lauren shrugs, pulling Camila closer by the waist with one hand, “don’t you want to kiss me, Camz?”

“I  _really_  do,” Camila assures, “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” Lauren replies, “I told you, I don’t want you to be a  _secret,_ and you just look so pretty right now that I’d love it if you… if you kissed me good morning.”

After considering it for a few moments, and looking around to make sure nobody is watching or pointing a camera in their direction, Camila pulls her in for a kiss; nothing too explicit, just a quick peck on her lips before she takes her hand. “Alright then. Girlfriend.  _You’re_  my girlfriend.”

Lauren flashes her a bright smile. “Yeah, I am. And you’re  _mine_.”

Camila’s whole heart feels warm as they walk away from the coffee shop, and Lauren doesn’t drop her hand. She doesn’t know what she’d expected, honestly; she wasn’t sure if Lauren would want to keep their relationship a complete secret, because she’s not out, or if she’d have a whole ‘coming-out’ thing. This seems like a happy medium, something Camila knows she can handle; she knows first-hand just how ruthless the fandom can be when Lauren is linked to someone, but she figures that because she’s a  _woman_ , it won’t be  _as_  bad when they find out.

(It’s just the fact that she’s not  _Lucy_.  _That_  will have some people rioting.)

She tries not to worry about what Lauren’s fans will think; after all, she’s still kind of one of them, even if she’s  _painfully_  behind on  _Silverhollow;_ she still hasn’t seen the final three episodes of season three. Incidentally, the final three in which Lauren will appear.

She  _had_  gone on Twitter, and anything that had the fans could’ve pointed out about the nature of her relationship with Lauren had been ignored in favour of the outcry at the final two episodes. The episode in which Lauren was attacked had insane reactions, most people freaking out and crying and talking about how they’re never watching the show again if she was dead. The final episode, however, had been an obvious rollercoaster of emotions. When it was revealed that Vanessa was alive, the fans rejoiced, some of them laughing at the more dramatic reactions of the fans from the last episode, saying how they’d never kill Vanessa, since she’s arguably the most popular character. But the mood had quickly changed when Vanessa announced she was leaving town, and the breakup with Emilia elicited a mixture of depression and rage.

Lauren hadn’t spoken to her about it; in fact, for the last few weeks, it’s like she’s forgotten that  _Silverhollow_  had ever existed. She’d barely been on Twitter, but Lauren had never  _really_  been a big Twitter fan. She’d posted a tweet thanking the fans for their support and saying goodbye to the show, as well as an unseen selfie of Lucy, Keana, Vero and herself on set, Lauren covered in fake blood, with a heartfelt caption about how she’ll miss the show but she won’t be returning for season four.

“You’re flying home in like two days, right?”

Lauren’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she blinks in surprise as the question finally registers. “Oh! Yeah. Friday night.”

Lauren pouts. “I don’t want you to go. You’ll literally be  _three thousand_   _miles_  away from me.”

“Until literally less than twenty-four hours after my flight, when you’re flying back to Miami yourself,” Camila laughs, but inwardly, she’s pretty much jumping for joy at Lauren’s words. “Don’t worry, we can coordinate our Christmas flights.”

Lauren lets out an over-exaggerated groan of annoyance, and even though she’s never met her, she does a damn good impression of Camila’s little sister when she’s upset as she pouts and says an annoyed, “ _fine.”_

“If you want, I could meet you at the airport?” Camila offers, and she’s a  _little_  offended when Lauren shakes her head. “Um, why the hell  _not_? Don’t you want to see the girlfriend you were complaining about missing?”

“No, no, I do, but a lot of the time fans somehow figure out what flight I’m on for things and they come and harass me,” Lauren says, and Camila’s stomach drops in guilt on behalf of the fandom. There was one particular day that had broken Camila’s heart; Lauren, Lucy, and a few other cast members had flown to Comic-Con the year before and been mobbed at the airport. The fans had particularly crowded Lauren, and pictures came out of her literally having a panic attack while surrounded by a hoard of fans asking for pictures and autographs.

“I just don’t want to put you through that,” Lauren says, snapping Camila out of the memory, “it’s not nice.”

“Alright, but…” Camila frowns in thought, and drops Lauren’s hand for a moment so she can pull her phone from her pocket. She quickly texts Lauren her parents’ address in Miami. “I just sent you my address. Feel free to show up whenever you miss me.”

Lauren smiles at her in that soft, reserved kind of way that makes Camila’s heart melt. “I guess I’ll be ringing the doorbell every five seconds, then.”

Camila takes her hand again and squeezes it gently. “I think I’ll be okay with that.”

When her phone buzzes in her pocket, Camila drains her hot chocolate from the cup in one and throws it in the nearest garbage can just so she doesn’t have to let go of Lauren’s hand again. She pulls her phone from her pocket and reads the texts, immediately rolling her eyes.

****Cheechee (9:46AM): Hey now that Lauser’s your official gf you need to bring her over so I can alpha intimidate her lol** **

****Cheechee (9:47AM): also can u ask her to set me up with some hot actor guy? Thx gurl** **

Lauren notices the eye roll and the snort of laughter at the last text. “Who’s that?”

“Dinah,” Camila explains, “she wants you to come over so she can intimidate you and then ask you to set her up with – quote – some hot actor guy.”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “Bold of her to assume she could intimidate me.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Babe, I saw the way you were pretty much  _cowering_  when you met her. Don’t worry, I know she’s a lot, but you’re really not that badass. You’re all cute and soft. Like a puppy.”

Lauren almost looks offended, but then her expression falls into a more irritated one and she groans in annoyance. “I  _know_ , alright. It’s not my fault I get nervous sometimes, alright? Blame the anxiety!”

Camila just laughs. “So that’s a  _no_  to setting Dinah up with one of your co-stars?”

Lauren rolls her eyes, elbowing her lightly. “Shut up, Camz.”

“Even though her request is totally ridiculous, you  _are_  coming over again soon.” Camila decides for them. “Probably after Thanksgiving break. We can snuggle and find another TV show to binge.  _Or_  you could hang with me while I catch up on  _Silverhollow_.”

Lauren cringes. “No thanks.”

“God, am I  _ever_  going to get to watch the end of season three?” Camila rolls her eyes, but it’s over-exaggerated and definitely a joke. She  _does_  want to watch it, but she’d much rather spend her time with Lauren in  _person_  than watching her on a screen. “I’m going to end up getting spoiled, you know.”

“You already know what happens,” Lauren nudges her with her elbow again, finishing off her coffee and dropping it into a garbage can as they pass one. She pulls out a pack of mints from her pocket and pops one in her mouth, before offering one to Camila. The younger girl takes one too, but Lauren could offer her someone’s old musty sock and she’d take it. “But if you  _really_  want to watch it…”

Camila blinks in surprise, not fully realising what Lauren is saying. But when it hits her, she almost jumps up in joy. “Wait, what? You’ll watch it with me?”

“I will watch  _one_  episode. Because I should probably watch at least one episode of the show I’ve been a part of for three seasons.” Lauren sighs dramatically, before her expression turns more quizzical, perfect eyebrows knitting together in thought, “wait, when did you start watching?”

“When season one episode one aired for the first time,” Camila admits, but she’s a  _little_  embarrassed to say it. “I don’t know, I saw the promotional trailers that they played and I thought it looked interesting.”

Lauren looks surprised. “Oh. Really? That long?”

“Mhm. I followed you on Twitter when you were on like five thousand followers.” Camila says like it’s the most normal thing in the world, trying to keep it casual. “And now you’re on five million. I don’t know, there was always just something about you that I liked, more than any of the others. And to be honest, I don’t think I’ll watch season four. You… you made that show special. You  _and_  Lucy, but for me, it was mostly you.”

Lauren frowns as the words sink in, and Camila’s mind reels.  _Oh my god you’ve freaked her out, she’s going to dump you, you fucking idiot_ , she practically screams at herself, and she opens her mouth to apologise, but Lauren gets there first.

“Can you take my backpack to the lecture hall, babe?” Lauren asks, and the term of endearment definitely makes her feel better, but she’s a little confused as to why, because they’re basically  _at_  the building that their lecture hall is in. “I just remembered- I need to make a call, but if you could get my stuff out for me…”

Camila blinks in confusion. “Of course, but what-”

“Thank you, mi amor,” Lauren replies, kissing her cheek as she passes her her backpack. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she darts to sit on the empty bench across from the building they’re meant to be in, and Camila is a little too dazed from Lauren’s  _mi amor_  to question her further.

Instead, she starts in the direction of the building, making her way inside, wondering what made Lauren suddenly need to make a call.

She walks into the lecture hall, and it’s almost empty, only a couple of other classmates in there, so she doesn’t feel too stupid holding two backpacks as she makes her way to the back row. She sits at the right end of the row of seats, putting Lauren’s bag on the one next to her, and getting her own stuff out and ready before she opens Lauren’s backpack, taking her laptop out and opening it up. She doesn’t know Lauren’s password, so she leaves it on her lock screen, waiting for the older girl to join her.

More students come in, gradually filling the room up, but none of them are Lauren. She wonders if she’s going to get an explanation out of her girlfriend, because she’s got another class straight after this one, which won’t leave much time for talking.

Naturally, Lauren doesn’t come in until right after the professor, running up the stairs to slide into the seat next to Camila a little breathlessly. “Hi.”

Camila looks at her, waiting for her to explain, but when she just sends her a sheepish smile and types in her laptop password, Camila asks, “aren’t you going to tell me what-”

The professor is the one who cuts her off. “Today, we’re going to be talking about…”

Groaning quietly, Camila rolls her eyes, and turns to the front,  _not at all_  eager to learn. She’s eager for the lecture to be over, and hopefully over  _early_ , so she can get some kind of explanation from her girlfriend, but of course the professor runs over, and she knows she’ll have to run to make it to her next class.

As she’s throwing her stuff into her backpack, she turns to Lauren, “are you going to tell me what that call was all about?”

Lauren knows she’s in a hurry, so she just smiles and kisses her cheek in a goodbye. “I’ll tell you at lunch, babe.”

“Alright, okay, lunch,” Camila confirms, almost halfway down the steps, “I’m holding you to that!”

Lauren flashes her a smirk as she packs her own things away, “I don’t doubt that.”

Lauren

“I may have done something slightly reckless.”

Camila raises her eyebrows as she meets Lauren outside of her classroom. She immediately takes her hand and squeezes it gently. “How reckless?”

“Only… a little,” Lauren assures her; it’s not like she’d done anything  _completely_  insane. But jokingly, she adds, “I’m surprised you don’t already know. Aren’t all of you fans supposed to know everything I do at any given moment?”

“Alright, I wasn’t that obsessed,” Camila frowns, pulling her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, automatically going to LMJUpdates. “Is this little reckless act going to make me  _have_  to skip all of my classes just to supervise my irresponsible little girlfriend? Because I’m totally willing to do that.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “No, it’s nothing  _that_  bad. Just an… inquiry I had.”

“I feel like this has something to do with that mystery phone call from this morning.” Camila comments, and when Lauren just smiles elusively, she frowns even more. “Okay, then what is it? _”_

She’s scrolling through the updates account, but Lauren knows nothing will be on there. Either way, she’d made a  _step_ in the right direction, and in a few weeks, maybe the account will have the news she’s thinking about letting slip. Not only had Camila’s comments from earlier made her think, something else had too. She’d been sat in the library, because while Camila had another class, Lauren had a free period. She’d managed to find a secluded little corner, but that  _hadn’t_ stopped one girl from coming over. Naturally, Lauren was afraid it would start some kind of mob, as  _one_  person asking for a picture turns into  _two_ , then  _three_ , then a whole crowd, but the girl practically whispered to get her attention, and because of that little act of kindness, Lauren had felt  _okay_  with the whole thing.

The girl asked for a picture, and Lauren took a selfie with her, expecting that the girl would just thank her and walk away, like most people do. But instead, she’d told Lauren just how much the show meant to her, and how crushed she was that she’d left. She’d expected  _that_ , but what she hadn’t expected was for the girl to wrap her arms around her in a quick, nervous hug, and thank her for everything she’d done, that seeing her on-screen relationship with Lucy had made her homophobic mother more understanding. Before Lauren could think of something to say to that which wasn’t as lacklustre as  _you’re welcome_ , the girl hurried away.

That encounter, combined with the things Camila had told her, had made her write a draft of the tweet she wants to send. She figured if she was taking away something that gave so many people self-love and acceptance, then she could help in another way. She’s still working on getting the courage to send it, even though she has the  _okay_  from her PR team.

When Lauren passes her phone to the younger girl, Camila reads the draft aloud as Lauren glances at it over her shoulder. “ _I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to reach out to so many members of the LGBT community through Vanessa, and now that I’m taking a break from the show I’d like to start doing that through myself. I am a bisexual, Cuban-American woman and so proud of it. I love you all so much.”_

“You’re going to come out?” She looks at her in shock. “Just like that?”

“Mhm. Like I said, kind of reckless.” Lauren swings their hands as they walk down the street. “I know I haven’t sent it yet, but… but I’m still trying to work up the courage.”

Camila pulls her in for the tightest hug. “I’m so proud of you, baby. Even for just writing out the draft.”

“Please don’t ever stop calling me  _baby_ ,” Lauren murmurs into her shoulder, comforted by Camila’s embrace, “besides… I think it’s maybe time. It’s not like I’m not comfortable with it and after things I’ve heard… it feels right, in a way.”

“I’m glad,” Camila smiles, finally pulling away, but still keeping her grip on Lauren’s hand. “Also… you said you were  _taking a break_  from the show in your tweet. Is that what the mystery phone call was about? Going back for season five?”

“No,” Lauren shakes her head, even though she  _has_  been more tempted to go back as of lately, “it was a talk with my PR team, just to let them know I was thinking about it, and to see if they could figure out an interview where I could talk about my experiences with figuring out my sexuality.”

“You’re amazing,” Camila murmurs, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they walk, and Lauren feels instantly protected. “I feel like I just became an even bigger fan, as if that was even possible.”

“You’re such a big fan that you somehow managed to get me to be your  _girlfriend_ ,” Lauren snorts with amusement, “I have to admire your skills. Got any tips so I can bag myself Matty Healy?”

Camila gives her a light shove. “Hey! You like me more than him.”

Lauren’s stomach flutters, because she truly does, but she’s not letting Camila off that easily. “Do I? I wasn’t aware that you could read my mind. Especially so incorrectly.”

“ _Lauren_ ,” Camila whines, pouting at her oh-so-adorably, “don’t play with me like that.”

Caving almost instantly at the sad look on Camila’s face, Lauren wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and snuggles her face into her neck. “I like you more than anyone, Camzi.”

“Much better,” Camila smiles when she pulls away, “anyway, where are we even going for lunch?”

“Sandwich shop,” Lauren announces, because it’s not too far from the building they need to be in after their lunch hour. “My treat.”

“Nope, you got the drinks this morning, which means I get the lunch,” Camila argues, “that’s our deal, remember?”

Lauren rolls her eyes, but she accepts, because that  _is_  their deal. “Okay. Alright.”

“Good,” Camila smiles, and she takes Lauren’s hand, swinging them as they walk, “anyway, I know it’s like, cheesy as fuck to say this, but I’m so proud of you for even  _thinking_  about coming out.”

“It’s sort of because of you.” Lauren admits, and when Camila looks at her in surprise, she elaborates, “Like, the things you’ve said to me. About how the show helped you, and all of the people that have told me the same things. But like- I didn’t want to come out before out of  _spite_. I didn’t want the fans who basically traumatised me to pat themselves on the back like they helped me come to the realisation. But then from the stuff you’ve said – you’ve kind of given me a new perspective on the fans. I guess I figured me being spiteful because of  _five_  percent of the fans is kind of petty and ridiculous when I think about the  _ninety-five_  percent I could help.”

Camila sends her one of those soft, reserved smiles that make Lauren’s whole heart flutter. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, meeting you… it’s really helped me in a lot of aspects,” Lauren murmurs, rubbing her thumb against Camila’s knuckles as they walk hand in hand, “Before I met you, I really- I really resented the fans. And I’m still- I’m still working on  _not_  feeling that way, but you’ve put a lot of it into perspective for me.”

“Because I’m so amazing?” Camila jokes, but then her smile fades to a genuine one and she adds, “I’m glad that I could do that for you. Trust me, I get what you mean when you say you resent the aggressive Laucy shippers.”

“Did you ever…” Lauren starts to ask, but she cuts herself off quickly. Almost second-guessing herself, she allows the question to tumble out. “Did you ever ship us?”

“Not really. I was more focused on your fictional counterparts,” Camila shrugs, and admittedly, Lauren is relieved. She knows that Camila isn’t like that, she knows she’d  _never_  be the way that awful five percent of the fanbase are, but it’s nice to  _hear_  that. “I’ll admit, I understand  _why_  some people ship you guys, but I was honestly busier shipping you with myself.”

Lauren’s stomach flips at  _that_. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re kind of the best person to ever exist. You  _literally_  have everything I look for in a woman.” Camila says, and Lauren thinks she might  _melt_  if Camila keeps going. “Like, you’re intelligent, you’re passionate about the things that matter to you, you’re  _incredibly_  talented, absolutely drop-dead gorgeous… you’re exactly my type. Plus, you know, you laugh at my dumb jokes. That’s always a bonus.”

“Okay, okay, ceasefire, I think I might  _actually_  dissolve into a puddle of goo if you keep going,” Lauren announces, because her knees are  _incredibly_  weak at Camila’s words. “So- um, how come you were never going to approach me, then? You told me you weren’t going to, but if you were  _that_  into me, then…”

“First of all, what’s the past tense doing there? I am presently, right this moment  _very_  into you.” Camila states, and Lauren feels the blush on her cheeks, “But I told you, I didn’t want to bother you. And also, you know, I didn’t think I’d stand a chance. Compared to you, I felt like I was mediocre, but that… that was the fan mentality. I was putting you on a pedestal, because I didn’t  _know_  you. You were this unattainable celebrity in my head. But then I got to know you, and… things started to change.”

“You’re not mediocre,” Lauren immediately tells her, “you’re the farthest thing from it. Anyway, I have something to ask you.”

Camila nods, tugging her towards the sandwich shop. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Do you have any recordings of your music that I can listen to?” Lauren asks her, and Camila looks completely surprised by that. She quickly explains herself. “It’s just- well, you’ve seen all of  _Silverhollow_ , and I really want to support you, too. And I already know it’s  _good_ , from what I heard you playing around with that day we met. And from the times you’ve been singing to yourself while you’re doing stuff.”

“Oh,” The words sink in, and Camila looks at her like she’s never seen anything cuter, as she holds open the door to the sandwich shop. “You’re actually the cutest, Lo. Sure. I actually have a few demos recorded on my laptop. Obviously it’s not the best quality since I did it myself, but I can put them into an iTunes playlist for you.”

Lauren nods, grateful that Camila is willing to share her music with her. “Okay. Good. Thank you.”

“Thank  _you_  for being so supportive,” Camila smiles, kissing her on the cheek before she drops her hand to pull out a chair for her. “Okay. Chicken club sandwich?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hums in reply, and Camila nods, heading to the counter to order for the two of them. Lauren watches her in total adoration, chin rested on the palm of her hand, and she doesn’t even  _notice_  the girl in the  _Silverhollow_  t-shirt until she taps her on the shoulder. “Huh? Oh. Hi.”

“Do you mind if I could get a picture? I’m a big fan of the show,” The girl asks, and Lauren nods, getting up and taking a selfie with her. When she sits back down, the girl continues. “I’m really going to miss you on the show. Is there any chance of you coming back for season five?”

Lauren has no idea how to answer that, because  _she_  has no idea at this point. “I haven’t really made any decisions yet.”

“Oh! Well, we all love you so much,” The girl tells her, “and we’re proud of you, and we’ll love you no matter what you choose to do.”

Stuff like that always means more coming from Camila, but she still appreciates the words. She smiles politely in reply. “Thank you.”

When the girl leaves, Camila comes over, sitting down in the seat across from her, and putting her sandwich in front of her. “Here. They took like,  _five_  seconds to make, apparently.”

She digs into her own grilled cheese pretty much immediately, and a question springs to Lauren’s mind. “Hey, do you ever wear that  _Silverhollow_  t-shirt that I found in your room?”

“No. I wear it to bed sometimes, but I feel like it’d be weird if I wore that in front of you,” Camila laughs, “are you asking because you want it?”

“No, I could get it for free if I asked,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “I was just curious. What about before you met me?”

“Yeah, before I met you, it was one of my favourite shirts.” Camila replies. “But  _after_  I got to know you, it felt weird.”

“Alright,” Lauren replies, and once she’s had a couple of bites of her sandwich, she adds, “can I see your Instagram fan account?”

Camila blushes. “No, you can’t, because while Twitter was more me supporting you,  _Instagram_  was more… me being thirsty.”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “Like you’re any different now.”

“Okay, okay, shut up,” Camila rolls her eyes, “it’s not my fault you’re so hot, okay?”

Lauren’s stomach flips at the words. “Okay, just going to pretend you didn’t say that so my brain can maintain its functionality. Can I post this on my story?”

“Why would I say no to that?” Camila frowns, finishing the first half of her grilled cheese, but then it seems to click in her head. “ _Oh._ You mean, like your public account. Sure. I don’t see why not, you posted that drunk picture on there.”

Once she’s sure she’s got Camila’s green light, she pulls out her phone and films her sandwich, before pointing the camera at Camila, “lunch with Camz. Say hi.”

Through a mouthful of sandwich, Camila mumbles a  _hello_ , and Lauren quickly turns the camera to herself, smiles, and then posts the video to her story, tagging Camila. She locks her phone, tucking it into her back pocket, and then she digs into her sandwich, trying to catch up with Camila, but the younger girl is finished by the time Lauren gets onto her second half.

After a few minutes of staring at her longingly, Camila finally asks, “Hey, can I try some of that?”

“Sure,” Lauren grabs her knife and cuts the end piece off for Camila, letting her take it. “Go ahead.”

“I like how you cut that without touching it like I’m going to give you some kind of disease,” Camila snorts in amusement, “you do realise you’ve literally kissed me, right?”

“Shut up, it’s just basic hygiene,” Lauren rolls her eyes, watching as Camila tries the piece of sandwich she’d given her. “You like it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Camila says, finishing it off and eyeing the rest of Lauren’s sandwich up. “It’s nice.”

Lauren cuts what’s left in half and pushes the plate to the middle of the table. “You take that half.”

“No, baby, it’s fine, it’s your lunch,” Camila protests, and the term of endearment makes Lauren want to jump up, do a happy dance and shout to the whole world that this amazing woman is her  _girlfriend._  “You eat it.”

“I’m getting full anyway,” Lauren assures her, and it  _is_  partially true. She could’ve probably finished it, but it’s much more satisfying to see Camila happy. “Go on, it’s fine.”

After that reassurance, Camila doesn’t hesitate, and digs right in. Lauren finishes her own half relatively fast, but Camila is naturally already done, watching her with mild amusement on her face, like there’s some kind of special joke that only she’s privy to. She raises a questioning eyebrow, and Camila grabs a napkin, leaning across the table and wiping a little bit of mayo from the corner of Lauren’s mouth.

“Oh,” Lauren blushes as Camila crumples the napkin up and drops it on her plate, “thanks.”

“No problem,” Camila smiles, “so, when do you have to make a decision about that guest role thingy? I need to know if it’s worth me watching season four.”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “Not for a long time. They’re only just working on the scripts now, and filming won’t start until at  _least_  April next year. I’m honestly more worried about awards season.”

“Oh?” Camila frowns. “Why are you worried about that?”

“Not to sound like a  _total_  nerd, but for my grades,” Lauren admits, “I’ll have to go down to L.A. to make appearances at all the big ones, especially the ones we’re nominated for. I just don’t want my grades to suffer because of other obligations.”

“You really  _are_  a nerd,” Camila laughs, “but hey, I promise I’ll take notes for you and stuff. And I’ll help you catch up on stuff you miss.”

“I honestly don’t even want to go,” Lauren admits, biting down on her bottom lip, “they’re trying to get me to fly down to L.A. for the People’s Choice Awards this week but I think I’ve made it clear I don’t want to go. Even  _Lucy_  is trying to get me to do it, since I’m nominated for something.”

Camila frowns. “Why don’t you want to go? Isn’t it nice to be recognised like that?”

“Because the whole reason I’m here is to take a break,” Lauren sighs, “the whole concept of taking a break is completely fucked if I keep going back every couple of months to do stuff. I need to just… be stubborn. I don’t  _want_  to go to award shows and spend hours getting all glammed up just to be photographed like I’m some kind of wild animal in a zoo. I just- all I wanted was to act. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Look, I- you know I’m always going to be sympathetic, and that you can talk to me about anything,” Camila prefaces, and it’s like Lauren can  _tell_  she’s not going to like what comes next, “but… but it’s not hard to know that fame kind of comes with the territory. Even  _I_  know that, when I think about pursuing my music. You’ve just got to think about it in the way that- that you told me you started to see it, about the fans. That ninety-five percent just want to support you.”

“So it’s my own fault, is it?” Lauren snaps without thinking, “Should’ve known what I was getting myself into? Should’ve known what I was giving up? I was  _seventeen_  and I had  _no_ idea what fandoms were like, no idea what  _paparazzi_ were like, and no idea what it was like to have  _zero_  privacy.”

“Hey, no, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Camila defends herself, but Lauren is too busy pulling her jacket on and grabbing her backpack to pay attention to her. “Hey! Don’t just walk away from me.”

Lauren ignores her as she gets up, stalking towards the door of the sandwich shop. She sees the fan from before, watching her with intrigue, but Lauren is blinded by the oncoming panic. She should’ve  _known_  that Camila wouldn’t understand it. The only people who  _do_  understand are people like Lucy, Vero and Keana, people in the same situation, and she was stupid enough to think that Camila could get what she has to deal with on a daily basis just because she had the ridiculous notion of turning her passion into a career.

“Wait,” Camila grabs her arm as Lauren stalks out of the shop and down the street,  _not_  in the direction of campus but en route to her apartment, “hear me out, okay? I know that I can never understand what it’s like, but-”

“But I should be  _grateful_  to the invasive people who basically ruined my life?” Lauren snaps. “No. You don’t get it and you never will, so just- just leave me alone.”

“I  _won’t_ ,” Camila pulls her back when Lauren tries to break out of her grip, and the younger Latina’s free hand cups her jaw, making her meet her eyes, and Lauren hates herself for feeling so much. Camila keeps her close, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist. “Listen to me. Literally the definition of being a successful actor is being  _famous_ , right? But that doesn’t mean you have to  _like_  that. I know you’re not- not  _suited_  to the whole fame thing, and I respect that. It’s not  _you_ , it’s the invasive people, like the too-passionate fans and the paparazzi, but it’s an inevitability and that’s just something you have to  _accept_.”

Lauren recoils at the words. “Oh, so I need to  _accept_  that people are going to invade my privacy, do I?”

“Yeah, you do, and it’s  _okay_ ,” Camila says, “because you have people who care about you there to make it feel  _better_. I’m not saying you have to go back down to L.A. this instant to go to this award show, and honestly, I’d support you even if you did decide to just become a total hermit. But if you’re going to go back to the show once you graduate, it’s something you need to figure out a healthy coping mechanism for.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to deal with all the bullshit,” Lauren snaps, pulling away from her and turning down the sidewalk, picking up her pace and trying to get away from her, but naturally, Camila catches up, grabbing her hand and gripping it so tightly that Lauren can’t break away. “You don’t know what it’s like, so don’t try to counsel me. You’ve never had to deal with millions of people picking apart everything you do, commenting on things they have no  _right_  to comment on. They bullied me into a fucking  _anxiety disorder_ , so I’m sorry I’m not that forgiving. But of course you don’t get it, because  _you_  were-”

“Not like that, and you know it.” Camila interrupts her, pulling her back and cupping her jaw again, practically forcing Lauren to look at her. “You know I wasn’t. And you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like, but that doesn’t give you a right to get all bitchy with me.  _Tell_  me how you feel. I’m your girlfriend, you’re supposed to talk to me about stuff that makes you upset.”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, never too trusting when it comes to talking to people. She hadn’t spoken to anybody about how she was feeling until she was literally at a breaking point, and by that point, it’d been too late to drop out of  _Silverhollow_  season three.

Almost like she senses the doubt, Camila presses a gentle, reassuring kiss to her lips and murmurs, “even if you just want to rant at someone, I’m here. I know I can’t offer any advice…”

“Okay,” Lauren finally mumbles, “I’ll talk. But we should get to class.”

Camila rolls her eyes, “I think you’re more important than a dumb class. We’ll go to your place and you can tell me everything that’s on your mind while I hold you and kiss you and make you feel as special as you are. Okay?”

One look at the total adoration in Camila’s eyes completely starts the flood. Before she knows it, she’s crying, burying her face into Camila’s neck and keeping her held as close as she can, comforted by the younger girl’s touch. She’s just so overwhelmed; she can’t believe that someone so perfect likes her back,  _and_  won’t let her push her away like she always does.

Camila seems a little taken aback by the sudden waterfall, and she slowly walks them down the sidewalk. “It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll be at your apartment soon, do you have your keys?”

“Back pocket,” Lauren manages to choke out between sobs, and she feels Camila grab her keys from her pocket as she walks them down the sidewalk as best as she can with Lauren hanging off her like a limpet. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Camila assures her, “you don’t have anything to be sorry for. Come on, we’re almost there, and the sooner we get in, the sooner we can snuggle.”

Somehow, they manage to get up to Lauren’s apartment, even with the way Lauren won’t let go of Camila, how she’s snuggling into her, not caring who might see and take a picture, because she knows if she lets go she’ll start to panic. Camila unlocks her apartment door, and Lauren tugs her across to her bedroom, hating herself for how  _pathetic_  she probably seems.

Camila opens the bedroom door, and Lauren finally detaches herself from her, if only for a moment, just so she can jump onto her bed, grab Nala, and bundle herself under the covers. Camila gets in a second later, and Lauren latches onto her like it’s some kind of reflex.

“Alright,” Camila starts, fingers running through her hair as Lauren cries, “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk right away, I can wait until you’re ready-”

“I’m a fucking  _mess_ ,” Lauren cries into her shoulder, not knowing where to start with the absolute catastrophe that is her mental health, “I- I act like I’m fine, because it’s like- any time I try to  _talk_ to people, they just tell me that I  _can’t_  be upset, because I have my dream job, I don’t have to worry about  _money_ , and I have  _fame_. But all of my problems are  _because_  of that fame. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to be able to act as a career, and make enough money from it that my finances are the  _one_  thing I don’t have to worry about, but I just- there’s too much  _pressure_  on me to be perfect and I’m fucking  _not_. I’m far from it. And- and I never know if I can trust people, because they always  _want_  something from me, and I can never- I don’t know, run to the store in sweats for fear of people taking pictures of me and the things  _other_  people might say, and any negative comments I see just- just  _haunt_  me and I can’t  _handle_  it.”

“If I could- if I could go back in time, I don’t think I would audition for the show. Sometimes I think I’d be happier if I never had.” She admits, her grip on Camila tightening like she’s going to leave. “The things I’ve had to sacrifice just to act professionally… it wasn’t worth it. And coming here didn’t  _help_  at all. I’m still fucked up and I’m still anxious about  _everything_  but now I don’t even have the only healthy coping mechanism I had, which happened to be  _acting_ , the thing that got me in this fucking mess in the first place.”

“So… it’s like a cycle,” Camila comments, and Lauren nods, because that’s  _exactly_  what it is. “If you pursue your passion for acting, all of these negative things come from it and make your anxiety worse, but acting happens to be the thing that makes you feel better.”

“Yeah, but even that’s been fucking ruined. It’s like I can’t have  _anything_  that makes me happy, and the fact that  _you_  make me so happy… it scares me.” Lauren admits, snuggling closer to Camila, crying into the curve of her neck, and trying to swallow the big knot in her throat. “I’m scared that… that you’ll leave me if I’m not open about our relationship, but if I am,  _then_ I worry that the fans will – because you’re not  _Lucy_ , they’ll send you hate and then  _you_  won’t be able to take it and you’ll leave and they’ll have ruined another one of the only  _good_  things I have in my life.”

Camila runs her fingers through her hair, and Lauren shivers at her touch, wanting to cry even more when she thinks about how she could lose this, “Lauren, I wouldn’t-”

“That’s why I got so upset at you. Because you saying one thing like that- it was enough of an excuse to push you away. It’s like- I push everyone away so I don’t have to deal with the heartbreak of the  _fans_  doing it for me,” Lauren mumbles, shaking her head, squeezing her stuffed lion to her chest, “I don’t want anything else to be taken away from me, but I want  _so badly_  to be able to tell everyone you’re my girlfriend, to kiss you on my Instagram story, to talk about how much I care about you to anyone with ears. But if I do that, then  _you’ll_  have to deal with the attention from strangers on the internet, and those  _fucking assholes_  who are the  _reason_  I’m so fucked up.”

“You’re not fucked up,” Camila firmly replies, “and you will  _not_  lose me. You’re forgetting that I  _was_  a fan, and I know what fandom is like. The ones who are so aggressive about wanting you to be with Lucy… they’re just kids who don’t understand where the line between fiction and reality is. They’ll grow out of shipping in a few years anyway, and even if they  _don’t_ , they’ll mature enough to understand the boundaries. They don’t bother me; I’ve had my fair few arguments with some obsessive Laucy fans, actually.”

Lauren blinks in confusion, pushing herself up to look at Camila, wiping away the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. She sniffles, and the younger girl smiles, leaning up to kiss her forehead. “You have?”

“Yeah. The ones who liked to call you homophobic because you were uncomfortable with the idea of people shipping you with your best friend,” Camila shrugs, sending her a small, teasing smile, “babe, I was basically the captain of the Lauren defence squad. Still am and always will be. So I  _promise_  you, stupid kids on the internet won’t bother me.”

“Would you come with me?” Lauren asks, and Camila frowns in confusion. “To the People’s Choice Awards. If I went – I don’t think I will, but  _if –_  will you come with me?”

“Of course, if you want me to go,” Camila assures her, “but fair warning, I  _may_  have a  _little_  bit of a fangirl when it comes to meeting the other cast members. Not to their  _faces_  obviously, but to you. I had to hold it back when it was meeting you and Lucy, but no promises about anyone else.”

Already feeling at least  _a little_  better at Camila’s joking tone, she asks, “Which cast members? And- and you liked me the most, right?”

“I liked you the most,” Camila reassures her, and Lauren feels even better when she snuggles up next to her, trying not to worry, because  _Camila isn’t going to leave her._  “I  _still_  like you the most, mi amor. But honestly, mostly Keana and Vero. You were my favourite, and obviously Lucy was up there too, but I like Keana and Vero as well. Hated Keana’s character because her character hates yours, but I like her in  _real_  life.”

Lauren lets out a weak laugh. “Keana was one of the first people I made friends with on set, actually. She was the first person I filmed a scene with, and even though we have to  _act_  like we hate each other, the second the director called  _cut_ , we were practically best friends.”

Lauren leans back against her pillows, hating the  _empty_  feeling in her gut when she thinks about the show. She misses being on set so  _badly_ , misses how it feels like they’re one big family, misses the dynamic on set and  _even_  the 5am wakeup calls for makeup and the monotony of running lines.

Camila seems to read her mind. “You miss it, don’t you?”

“Every day,” Lauren admits, shuffling over to look at Camila; the tips of their noses touch, and the younger girl sends her that soft, comforting smile that makes Lauren feel so  _safe_. “But I don’t know how I could ever go back when it makes the rest of my life so messy.”

“You have a year off.” Camila points out. “Obviously you have college classes and stuff, but you’ve still got a year away from acting and the pressure of L.A. Take this year to… to look after yourself. To find a way to cope with everything, even if it’s just… not using social media, or… or at least not your public accounts.”

Lauren runs a hand through her hair. “I literally  _can’t_  do that. I want to, but I promised my agent and PR team that I’d stay active so I don’t just… fade into obscurity. Even though that’s kind of what I want.”

“Well, alright,  _that’s_  ruled out, but…” Camila pulls her in for a kiss, “but I’m here. And I’ll help you find a way to feel better, so you can get back to the thing you love to do. Alright?”

“Alright,” Lauren murmurs, “sorry for being such a mess.”

“It’s okay.” Camila assures her, “Everyone is a mess sometimes, no matter how good they are at hiding it. But I’ll always be here to help you.”

Even though she doubts everything else in her life,  _somehow_ , Lauren believes her.


	17. Chapter 17

Camila

It was _weird_ , walking into her bedroom at home and immediately tasking herself with taking down posters of her _girlfriend_. But she does it quickly, rolling them up and stuffing them in the back of her closet, because Lauren had texted, saying she’s planning on coming over once she arrives in Miami too, and she doesn’t want her to be creeped out.

Once she’d done that, she’d spent the whole evening and most of the next day with her family, updating her mom on the situation with Lauren, basically just gushing about her girlfriend. It’s not anything different than her mother is used to; just that Camila is talking about Lauren Jauregui her _girlfriend_ , not Lauren Jauregui her favourite actress.

(Sofi doesn’t believe her when she’s talking about the older girl, but Camila will bring her proof home in the next couple of days.)

After extensive family time, Camila excuses herself to FaceTime Lauren; her flight is today, and because of the three hour time difference, she’s almost about to board. “Hi, baby.”

“ _Hey,”_ Lauren leans back in her seat, and from what Camila can tell, she’s at the boarding gate now, “ _listen, I don’t think I’m going to be able to come over today, but definitely tomorrow. My mom has already booked a family meal out, and my best friend Alexa is flying back home today too, and I haven’t seen them for ages, so…”_

“That’s okay, Laur,” Camila assures her, “you see me all the time, so it’s honestly no big deal if you can’t come over right away.”

 _“Thanks, Camz,”_ Lauren takes a sip of a drink, probably a caramel latte, and then announces, “ _so, is this the famous bedroom with the posters on the wall?”_

“Not anymore,” Camila sticks her tongue out childishly, “I took them down when I got home.”

“ _Dammit, I wanted you to keep them up so I could tease you about it when I came over,”_ Lauren pouts, “ _do you have any other memorabilia I can make fun of you for?”_

“No, I don’t,” Camila rolls her eyes, “it’s not _funny_ that I was a fan, you know. You should be grateful that you had someone as amazing as me supporting you.”

 _“I am, but it’s still funny,”_ Lauren replies, _“seriously though, did you have any other merch? Did you cop one of those hoodies I released? Because if not, you’re a fake fan and I don’t like you anymore.”_

Camila blushes, “I bought one. I _almost_ considered buying a replica of the leather jacket you wear on the show, but I restrained myself.”

“ _You can have it, if you want. I stole the original one from set,”_ Lauren casually admits to theft, “ _They had to make me a new one for season three anyway, it didn’t really fit me anymore, but it’ll definitely fit you. I can give it to you this week, it’s at my parents’ house.”_

“You don’t realise how much I have to hold back my fangirling right now,” Camila admits, because _oh my fucking god,_ if there’s one thing she didn’t think she’d ever get, it was _Vanessa Ramirez’s leather jacket._ “Oh my god.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows, and there’s an echoed announcement about a flight boarding, and judging by the way she drains the rest of her coffee, it’s her flight. “ _Alright, it’s just a jacket. I was honestly going to sell it on eBay, so it’s not a big deal.”_

“It’s a _huge_ deal!” Camila announces as Lauren starts to put a few things back into her carry-on backpack, like her book and her charger. “I can’t believe _I’m_ going to own Vanessa’s jacket!”

Lauren laughs, putting her bag strap over her shoulder. _“Okay, not like you’re dating the actress who plays her or anything_.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but _still_ ,” Camila grins in excitement, “you’ll really give me the jacket?”

“ _I said I would, didn’t I?”_ Lauren laughs at just how ecstatic she is, “ _Anyway, babe, I have to go get in line to board. I’ll text you when I’ve landed?”_

“Alright. Have a safe flight,” Camila says, “I expect a text literally the _moment_ the plane touches the ground.”

“ _I promise,”_ Lauren assures her, “ _Bye, Camz.”_

When she hangs up, Camila sighs happily, and she _wants_ to freak out like she would’ve four months ago if Lauren had walked up to her and presented her with Vanessa’s jacket. But she _can’t_ go on her old fan accounts, because that would be weird.

 _Or it could be nostalgic,_ Camila thinks to herself, and using that as her excuse, she logs back into her old Twitter. She checks her notifications, and they’re pretty much dead; the last one was Lauren following her, which she hadn’t even realised she’d _done_. Intrigued by that, she sends Lauren a quick text.

**Camz (3:21PM): you followed my old fan acc??**

**Lauren (3:22PM): I did that when we made up after fighting. Remember?**

**Camz (3:23PM): huh i thought you just followed my normal accounts**

**Lauren (3:23PM): I still want to see the Instagram! It’ll be funny to see little stalker Camz having her cute crush on me**

**Camz (3:24PM): not gonna happen baby**

**Lauren (3:24PM): is it the same username as Twitter? Because I could easily find it myself.**

**Camz (3:24PM): no it is not and you will NEVER find it**

**Lauren (3:25PM): We’ll see about that one, babe. ;)**

She switches back to Twitter, and wonders what’s been happening from the fans’ perspective. Lauren hadn’t been active recently; she’d decided not to go to the People’s Choice Awards, and her absence had clearly been noted from what she’s seeing on her timeline.

She has a couple of DMs, and she when she opens them, she realises they’re from a girl she used to talk to occasionally, called Hailee; they’d Skyped a couple of times, but never met in person. And that’s when she realises it may be a problem. The first message is dated back on Halloween, and the most recent about a week and a half ago.

Direct Message with @vivesreguis

**@vivesreguis:** Not to freak you out or anything but there’s a girl who looks exactly like you on lauren’s story

 **@vivesreguis:** So from what we know about what lauren is doing at college apparently she keeps hanging around with a girl called camila???? care to explain???

 **@vivesreguis:** Are you actually hanging out with lauren?? She just posted on her story saying ‘getting lunch with Camz’ and I know it’s you and people are saying you’re dating???!!

She isn’t sure what to say in reply, but because she’s _opened_ them, Hailee will know she’s read them and ignored her. She quickly screenshots the messages and sends them to Lauren, asking for her help on a suitable response, but Lauren is no help.

**Lauren (3:33PM): Idk just tell her that we’re friends or something**

**Lauren (3:33PM): Or ignore her if you want, I trust your judgement**

**Lauren (3:34PM): Gotta put my phone on airplane mode now, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Text you later.**

She reads the messages again, and figuring that it’ll end up getting out at _some_ point that she used to be a fan, especially if she and Lauren end up going properly public, she answers with;

 **@lgbtjauregui:** yeah haha that was me, we actually kinda made friends which is why i haven’t been on this account in forever

She leaves it at that, and out of habit, when she goes to the search bar, she ends up on Lauren’s profile. The last tweet was from just over a month ago, when she’d done a little Q&A, but otherwise her account is basically dead too. She likes it the last tweet anyway, and then searches for the thing she’s _really_ interested in; what the fans are speculating about Lauren’s college experience so far.

Unsurprisingly, she finds a couple of candid pictures of the two of them on campus. They’re holding hands, and it’s innocent enough, but there are people either speculating that they _are_ dating, _or_ calling it ‘PR’ to cover up _Laucy_. She finds that funny, but most of the fans aren’t too bothered, and if they _have_ paid any attention to her, it’s mostly just to say ‘ _or maybe this Camila girl is just Lauren’s friend? Ever think about that?’_ Even though it’s not true, because she and Lauren are together, it’s nice to know that most people are _sane_.

She’s a little shocked when she finds an article from Perez Hilton, posted fifteen minutes ago, and there’s an incredibly grainy picture of them _kissing_ linked. Her body feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured over it, and she presses on the article, feeling sick to her stomach.

**_Silverhollow actress Lauren Jauregui spotted KISSING another woman?_ **

_Lauren Jauregui, breakout star of mega-popular HBO show_ Silverhollow _, was recently caught kissing another woman in a leaked photograph, taken by a fan. The photograph was taken just outside the Stanford University campus, where Jauregui has been attending classes since late August._

_The actress recently departed from the show in the season three finale, stating that she wanted to finish her degree and take a year away from acting and the spotlight. She has been romantically linked with co-star Lucy Vives in the past, though Jauregui has constantly denied the rumours and insisted she is straight._

_Despite this, the image (posted below) clearly depicts her locking lips with another woman, and some fans have speculated that Jauregui isn’t so straight after all._

She scrolls down to the picture, and while it _is_ pretty grainy, from the angle it’s taken at, it’s quite obviously Lauren, but Camila is unrecognisable. She knows what the image is from; it’s outside the sandwich shop, and it’s obviously from when Camila had impulsively kissed Lauren to calm her down. She doesn’t know what to do; it’s not like she can _contact_ her girlfriend, since she’s on a plane right now, and it’s not like she knows any of her contacts, like her PR people or her agent. All she knows is that she feels incredibly guilty, because she shouldn’t have kissed Lauren in the first place.

Desperately, she copies the link to the article and sends it to Lucy over Instagram DMs. Lucy will know the right people to contact.

 **camila_cabello** idk who im supposed to contact in a situation like this and i can’t message lauren bc she’s on a plane but someone took a picture of the two of us kissing and perez hilton posted an article about it

 **camila_cabello** i know it’s all my fault i never should’ve kissed her in public in the first place but i just don’t know what to do

 **lucyvives** it’s okay it’s not your fault, it’s the fucking cunts who don’t understand boundaries

 **lucyvives** i’ve sent it to the show’s PR team, they’ll take it from here okay?? try not to stress out things like this just happen unfortunately but they’ll deal with it and do what they can

She looks back at the last reply. _Try not to stress out._ That’s kind of hard when her girlfriend is basically being _outed_ , but she knows there’s nothing she can do.

Because she’s on her old fan account, and nobody pays any attention to her, she replies to the tweet that links the article.

 **@lgbtjauregui** _@PerezHilton_ you’re disgusting and outing someone is never okay to do, not even if they’re a public figure. you don’t know what she labels herself, and you don’t know if she’s even TOLD anyone or if it’s safe for her to be out if she IS somewhere in the LGBT community. they might not even be kissing, it might just be a weird angle, the pic is so grainy that you can’t even tell. delete this now, scum.

She sends the tweet and quickly logs off, wishing that Lauren had in-flight wifi or something so she could tell her, but there’s literally _nothing_ she can do. She tries to figure out a way to distract herself, and after a few minutes, she realises something perfectly immersive that she can do.

She _still_ hasn’t finished season three of _Silverhollow,_ since she spends most of her time with Lauren and the older girl refuses to watch it with her and _also_ refuses to leave whenever Camila wants to watch. With that in mind, she picks up her laptop and heads to HBO GO; she’s thankful that her dad has a subscription to it. She searches for _Silverhollow_ , finds season three, and tries to remember which episode she’s on. She’s pretty sure it’s episode nine, so she starts it up and settles down to watch it.

She binges the last few episodes of the season, and even though she knows it’s stupid, she cries when Vanessa is attacked, as well as at the break up. She chalks it up to how emotional she is _anyway,_ just to make herself feel a little less pathetic. The older girl texts her at just the right time, when the final episode finishes and she’s checking to see if the article is still up – which it is – and Camila calls her almost immediately.

“ _Hi, I didn’t think you’d call, I’m just headed to baggage claim,”_ Lauren tells her, not realising that anything is wrong with Camila. _“I’m sure my mom will really appreciate some of the laundry I brought for her.”_

“Okay, so, I just finished season three,” Camila prefaces, deciding not to hit her with the whole _you may have been outed a few hours ago and the fucking post is still up_. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be that emotional!”

“ _Well, I figured that_ getting stabbed by a psychotic serial killer _would imply a little negative emotion,”_ Lauren sarcastically replies, and after a few moments of hesitation, she adds, “ _did you like it, though?”_

“Loved it in the way that it ripped my heart out of my chest, yep,” Camila replies, definitely overly-cheery and forced, but Lauren doesn’t seem to pick up on anything. “I will most definitely be buying the DVD.”

Lauren laughs. “ _I actually might have to borrow it so I can watch the bonus content. That’s why I went back that week we were fighting, to do all the commentary and stuff, but I was in such a shitty mood that I feel like I’m going to look depressed in it.”_

“We’ll watch it together, and I’ll try to contain my inner fangirl, but no promises,” Camila sighs, looking at the title in HBO GO and sighing. “I probably will watch season four, even though I know it won’t be as good without you.”

Lauren audibly _aws_ at her. _“Tanks, Camzi. I might watch it with you, actually. It’ll be fine because I won’t have to feel awkward, because I won’t be in it.”_

“Alright, I’m down for that,” Camila replies, and she doesn’t know how to break the news to her, “anyway, um, there’s something you need to know...”

“ _Hold up, Camz, I’m getting another call,”_ Lauren murmurs, and clearly pulls her phone away from her ear to look at who’s calling, _“Oh, it’s my PR team… I’ll call you later tonight, we can figure out when we’re both free this week?”_

Camila bites down on her bottom lip, unsure as to whether or not she should let Lauren hear the news from her or not. Eventually, she blurts out, “Um, baby… Perez Hilton posted an article that maybe possibly outed you.”

There’s dead silence on the line, and Camila feels her heart break for the older girl. “ _What?”_

“I… I am _so_ sorry, baby…” Camila trails off, “that’s why your PR team are calling you. As soon as I saw it I linked it to Lucy and she got in contact with them.”

“ _I- what?”_ Lauren repeats, and she sounds so broken and upset that Camila wishes she could teleport to the airport and hug her. “ _But- but I was going to- to do it myself, when…”_

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Camila tries to comfort her as best as she can through the phone, “I’m sure your team are going to do everything they can to get the article down-”

 _“I think I’m going to be sick,”_ Lauren mumbles, and when she continues, she sounds so small and hurt that Camila thinks she’s going to be sick too. “ _I- I have to call my PR team back. I…”_

“I know, baby,” Camila murmurs, “and I’m here for you no matter what, okay? Call me whenever you need me.”

 _“Yeah,”_ Lauren stutters, “ _I just- I have to go.”_

She doesn’t give Camila a chance to respond, and hangs up, leaving the younger girl worried for her. She checks on the article again to see if it’s gone, but instead, it’s like it’s _multiplied_. _AfterEllen_ had posted an article, and Camila recognises the name of the writer; she’d written an article about a woman who was _a big actress,_ who supposedly _led her on_ and had multiple _gay rumours_ , and a lot of people thought it pointed to Lauren.

She refreshes her timeline, and it’s a mixture of people being angry and yelling at both sites to take the articles down, _and_ people _celebrating_. Celebrating that Lauren was _outed._

It puts things into perspective for her, at least a little bit. She knows that the majority of fans are the ones defending Lauren and trying to get the sites to take down their posts, but she can understand why Lauren resents the fans when it’s people with some variation of _Laucy_ in their username celebrating the fact that Lauren is into girls, even though she’d just been _outed._

 _And she was going to tell them herself, too_ , Camila thinks, _that’s the most heartbreaking part. She was almost ready._

When she closes the Twitter app, she leans back against her pillows, her whole chest full of anxiety, wondering what Lauren is going to do, what she’s going to _say._

Lauren

She finally gets off the phone with her PR team, and she has no fucking idea what she’s supposed to do.

Her mother immediately pulls her into a hug, offering her a cookie, and Lauren takes it, not that it makes her feel any _better_ about the fact that she’d been _outed._ The show’s PR team and lawyers had managed to get the two articles down, but by that point, everyone had seen the picture of her kissing Camila, so they might as well have left the fucking posts up.

Camila is unrecognisable in the picture, but there’s no way Lauren could excuse it by saying it’s not her, because it _obviously_ is. But she wasn’t _ready_ to come out, not yet. She was _thinking_ about it, and psyching herself up for it, because it’s something she _wanted_ to do, but she wasn’t ready yet.

And _that_ had been taken away from her, just like everything else.

She runs a hand through her hair, finishing off her cookie, and glancing at the text from Camila, asking if she’s okay. While Lauren doesn’t blame her for it at all, she doesn’t think she can talk yet; she knows Camila is going to ask her what she’s going to do, and Lauren has no _fucking clue._

When another text comes through, Lauren locks her phone and pushes it aside. “Mami? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“I’m sure it’ll all work out somehow,” Clara reassures her, rubbing comforting circles on into Lauren’s back as she tries not to cry. “We’ll figure out how to fix this.”

 _How? By erasing the memory of anyone who looked at those articles?_ Lauren thinks, but she doesn’t let the sarcastic remark out. Instead, she falls back into her usual habit of avoidance, and when she gets yet another text from Camila, she doesn’t know how to respond.  _No, I'm not okay. I just got outed to millions of people. Why would I be okay with that?_

**Lauren (8:23PM): Just need some space. Will text you soon.**


	18. Chapter 18

Lauren

“I just- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Lauren paces by the pool, aware that she could probably slip and hurt herself, but she doesn’t really _care._ “I haven’t _done_ anything, but I feel like I have to. My PR team got the articles down, but it’s not like that hasn’t stopped ten more from popping up.”

“Well, what about Camila?” Alexa asks from her deck chair. She’d slept over last night, and Lauren pretty much _won’t_ let her leave. “Is it- like, have any of the articles named her?”

“No, no, she’s not- from the only picture they have, she’s not recognisable, and if any fans have drawn any connections between us, no media outlet has picked up on it,” Lauren brushes that off, and she’s thankful for that much, “I haven’t really spoken to her for the last couple of days.”

“Why not?” Alexa questions her. “She’s your _girlfriend_ , if anyone is going to help you through this, it’s her.”

“I’m just- I’m worried. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, and if people see us together right after I get fucking _outed,_ then they’ll make the connection. And I don’t know if she’s ready to be in the public eye.” Lauren rambles on, but it’s partially an excuse. “And I don’t know if it’s a good idea if I- I mean, if I’m not ready to be out, maybe I should just- you know, I really don’t _want_ to, but maybe it would be best if I-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Alexa warns her, and Lauren blinks in surprise, “you care about her a lot, I can tell that much. And from all of our FaceTime conversations, when you’re talking about her, you’re so _happy_. Breaking up with her would just make you even more miserable.”

“Then- then what am I supposed to do?” Lauren lets out a growl of frustration and sits down on the deck chair next to Alexa, taking a sip of her water. “What do you think?”

“Well, you have two options.” Alexa shrugs, “You could either hide away from it all until it dies down, and then just act like it never happened. Or you could own it. Take your power back. Forget that you were outed, and come out yourself. You told me you were going to.”

“I was- I was _getting ready_ to.” Lauren quickly corrects her. “I wanted to do it by the end of the year, but… then _this_ happened.”

“Then don’t let the jerks in the media take that away from you.” Alexa grabs her hand and squeezes it, and Lauren considers her best friend’s advice. In reality, it’s the best course of action, and it’s not like she’ll feel any more anxious than she already _does_ about it. “At the end of the day, it’s your sexuality and your truth, and you don’t owe anybody an explanation. But if you were already going to come out…”

“Then I should just do it?” Lauren asks, and Alexa nods in reply. She frowns, biting down on her bottom lip, and picking up her phone. She hasn’t spoken to Camila since that phone call, when her girlfriend had told her what happened as Lauren was collecting her bags at the airport.

She’d hung up the phone, locked herself in a bathroom stall and had a panic attack, and then ran out through the arrivals gate, past the crowd of fans who were waiting for pictures, and straight into her dad’s arms. She’d cried into his shoulder as the fans who _couldn’t take a hint_ took pictures of her having a breakdown; she did note some of them holding the others back, blocking their cameras and telling them to leave her alone, which she appreciated and she managed to choke out a small _thank you_ to them. She let her dad lead her to the car, where she’d proceeded to sob her heart out all the way home.

Then, she’d composed herself _slightly_ , and called her PR team to see what they were doing to get the articles down, _and_ for advice about what she should do. They’d gotten the articles down, and told her that she should keep a low profile for now.

Coming out would completely shatter the whole _low profile_ thing, but by this point, what _don’t_ people already know? Isn’t it better that she clarifies it, rather than let people continue to speculate? Her PR team had always loved the speculation; they act like they care about her emotional wellbeing, but mostly they just care about their paychecks. To _get_ said paychecks, they need to keep her _image_ up, keep her _relevant_ , and keep her public portrayal relatively _clean_. They’d somehow managed to keep a lot of the drinking and partying she’d been doing over the last couple of years under wraps, and she’s not surprised that they managed to get the articles down, but she’s honestly sick of being so filtered. Why shouldn’t she just _live her truth?_

“Okay. Okay, you’re right.” Lauren realises, nodding to herself. “But I need to talk to Camila first.”

“Invite her over,” Alexa suggests, “I have to be home soon anyway, I’m working tonight.”

Lauren frowns, adjusting the string on her bikini top. “Okay. Thanks for listening to me rant.”

“I’m your best friend, it’s pretty much my job,” Alexa gets up, tugging on the big t-shirt she has as a cover-up, and nodding towards the back door. “I’m just going to grab my stuff and then I’m heading home. Love you, okay? Tell me how everything goes.”

Lauren nods, still feeling anxious, but when _isn’t_ she feeling anxious? “Okay. Love you too.”

As Alexa disappears inside, Lauren picks up her phone from where she’d left it by her glass of water. She looks at the tweet she’d drafted when she’d first had the idea to maybe, possibly come out, and instead of sending it, she closes the Twitter app and calls Camila, waiting nervously as she hears the familiar dial tone.

Camila

Lauren has been radio silent.

Not even just to _her_ ; she hasn’t posted on any kind of social media for three days, since the article leaked. Camila figured she was just spending time with her family, and trying to process things, but she’s still a little worried. She tried checking with Lucy, to see if she’d heard anything from Lauren, but Lucy hadn’t heard from her either, aside from a similar _I need space_ text.

The fans are going crazy with all the speculation. Most of the _sane_ people just want everyone to forget about it and leave Lauren alone, but the Laucy shippers are insisting that the woman Lauren was spotted kissing was _Lucy_ , coming up to visit her at college. A couple of people had dragged Camila into it, saying that it’s her, that it’s obvious they’re dating even from the two social media interactions they’d been given; they’re _right_ , evidently, but Camila isn’t about to _say_ that.

She’s gotten a couple of DMs on Instagram, with people straight up _asking_ her if she’s the girl in the photos, but Camila had merely switched her DMs to private and ignored the messages.

She’s still worried about Lauren, but it’s only been _three days_ , and Camila can understand that someone would need space after getting outed to millions of people. She’d sent some texts, telling Lauren that she was here for her, and she would be willing to listen when Lauren is ready to talk, even though she knows she can’t _fully_ understand the weight of the situation and how Lauren would feel.

She’s checking Lauren’s Instagram again, just to see if she’d posted anything at all, when her phone screen changes to _Lauren – Incoming call._ She answers it immediately.

“Lo,” She breathes a small sigh of relief, “hi. How- how are you feeling?”

 _“Can you come over?”_ Lauren asks her, without any kind of greeting. “ _I need to talk to you.”_

“Oh, um… sure?” Camila’s brow furrows, before she inquires, “Am I going to _like_ this talk?”

 _“It’s not anything bad,”_ Lauren is quick to assure her, and Camila relaxes, because any time a girl has needed to _talk_ to her, it’s never usually gone well. “ _I’m just… thinking about stuff, and I know that- that you always give a good opinion. And a hand to hold…”_

“Okay. Alright, well text me your address,” Camila says, “I’ll get my mom to drop me off.”

“ _Sorry for being so… MIA these last few days,”_ Lauren apologises, and Camila’s heart flutters, _“I just needed to think about stuff. But I- I’m sorry for being so distant.”_

“It’s okay. I was a little worried, but I figured you’d come to me when you needed me,” Camila assures her, “how are you feeling?”

 _“Just kind of… empty. Trying to figure things out.”_ Lauren tells her. “ _Kind of glad it happened while I was at home, because my family have been… really amazing. Are you on your way? I texted you my address.”_

Camila pushes herself up from the couch. “No, I need to ask my mom for a ride, hold on.”

“ _I can pick you up, if you want.”_ Lauren offers, but Camila declines her offer and quickly asks her mom for a ride, and Sinu nods, telling her to get her shoes on. “ _Okay, well… I’ll see you soon? And- um, I’m going to come to yours later this week, too. Promised I’d meet your family, remember?”_

“Yeah.” Camila smiles, slipping her shoes on, “I’ll… see you soon?”

“ _See you soon, Camz,”_ Lauren answers, “ _I missed you.”_

“I missed you too,” Camila tells her, and she really means it; she knew that Lauren needed her space, but she’d missed her regardless. “Be there in about… fifteen minutes.”

After she hangs up, she gets into the car with her mom, and tells her that Lauren will be coming over later that week. She doesn’t know what’s going to come from this _talk_ , but Lauren had said it herself on the phone that she was going to come over, so obviously nothing bad would come from it.

 _She literally told you that, dumbass_ , Camila scolds herself, _you and Lauren are fine. She didn’t talk to you because she needed space._

When Sinu’s car pulls up at the address Lauren had given her, Camila gets out and walks up the driveway. There’s a Toyota parked in the driveway, and Camila is a little nervous that she’s at the wrong address when she doesn’t see Lauren’s Tesla, but then she realises that it’s still parked in her apartment building at school, because _obviously_ she didn’t fly here in it. That _would_ be a state of the art vehicle, now that she’s thinking about it, and she’s a little salty that they _don’t_ have flying cars yet.

“Camz,” A gate to the back of the house swings open, and Lauren waves her over. Camila really has to work on her concentration when she realises she’s clad in a skimpy orange bikini, her gorgeous body on full show. She’d seen Lauren in a bikini before, but only in pictures, and most of those were from a few years ago; seeing it in person is a heavenly experience.

“Hi,” Camila walks over, knees a little weak at the gorgeous sight in front of her. “Going for a swim?”

“I- mostly just tanning by the pool,” Lauren shrugs, taking her hand and pulling her into the back garden, shutting the gate behind her as a little dachshund tries to make his escape. “ _Dashy_ , _no_ , stay! I don’t know why he runs away like that every time he gets a chance. It’s not like he has infinite warmth and shelter and food and _cuddles_ here or anything.”

“You must be Dash,” Camila murmurs, petting the little dog, “You’re _so_ cute. Almost as cute as your owner here, but you know… don’t tell her I said that.”

Lauren blushes, and when Camila stands up after getting her fill of doggy snuggles, the older girl leans in and kisses her, cupping her jaw. When she pulls away, she sends her a small smile; it’s weaker than usual, but that’s to be expected after what happened to her. “Missed that. Come on. Let’s… go talk.”

She lets Lauren lead her over to the lounge chairs by the pool, and when the older girl offers her a drink, she asks for water. Lauren goes to get her a glass, and Camila admires her body as she walks away, still feeling a little anxious about whatever they’re going to talk about.

When Lauren brings her a glass of water, Camila takes a sip and asks her, “tell me how you’re feeling. I know you needed space, but I feel bad that I haven’t been able to comfort you or anything.”

“I just didn’t want to drag you into it. If people saw – I mean, it’s not hard to make the connection between us, and I know what it’s like to be shoved into the spotlight, and I don’t want that for you unless we’re both sure and we’re both comfortable with it.” Lauren rambles, worrying the string of her bikini top between her thumb and forefinger, and Camila kind of hopes she’ll pull it loose by accident. “I just feel kind of… defeated. You know? I was going to come out by the end of the year, I promised myself that, and then it just got taken away from me.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Camila reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “I’m sorry that people don’t understand boundaries. I wanted to say something in response, but I figured that would draw attention to it. I dragged Perez Hilton on my old fan account, though.”

Lauren lets out a weak laugh. “Thank you. _God_ , I just… I thought I’d stop expecting the best in people after they constantly crossed lines when I said I was uncomfortable with them pinning labels on me in the first place, but _this_ is just a whole other level.”

Camila leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek, and she’s suddenly _fully_ aware of the woman peering out through the blinds in the kitchen, looking towards the pool. “Okay, think your mom just saw me kiss you, that’s embarrassing.”

“A million people have seen you kiss me,” Lauren sarcastically replies, and she still looks so sad, but now that Camila is aware of Lauren’s mom watching them, she doesn’t kiss her again. Instead, she squeezes her hand comfortingly. “Anyway, I was talking to Alexa earlier, and she told me that I should just… come out. Take my power back. Like, post the tweet I was going to post the other week, and just get it out there rather than let people keep speculating. My PR team are sure that if I just lay low it’ll all go away, but they said the same shit about the _Laucy_ rumours three years ago, so…”

“Do it, baby.” Camila encourages her, because there’s nothing more _Lauren_ than her girlfriend speaking her mind. “You should do it, and put something in there about the lines and boundaries people crossed, and how it shouldn’t matter if someone is ‘ _famous’_ , because they’re still a person and they’re still entitled to privacy.”

“Okay. Yeah, you’re right,” Lauren meets her gaze for a few moments, and after looking her over, she smiles. “Should’ve known you’d make me feel better pretty much _instantly_. I wish I’d called you sooner, I just didn’t want anything to get… complicated.”

“I understand, babe,” Camila assures her, “now go on. Write your rant, in true Lauren Jauregui fashion.”

Lauren finally sends her that goofy grin, the one that lights up her eyes and gives her the cutest little double chin, and when she gets off her own deck chair, she’s quick to squish herself onto Camila’s. “Okay, but I’m writing it with my girlfriend snuggling me for moral support.”

Camila glances back at the window, but Clara seems to be gone, so she nods and kisses the top of Lauren’s head. “Okay. As long as you’re down for the weird tan lines you’ll get.”

As Lauren types in the notes app on her phone, Camila occupies herself by tracing her fingers across Lauren’s body, drawing invisible love hearts across her tummy. She decides that Lauren isn’t ever allowed to wear anything but a bikini ever again, because it’s kind of a holy experience, being snuggled up by the pool with Lauren pressed up against her.

Camila is quick to kiss her shoulder when Lauren looks particularly frowny as she’s reading her little rant over, and she asks, “you finished?”

“I want you to read it first,” Lauren passes her phone over to Camila, “you tell me if it’s good enough or not.”

“Anything you write would be good enough,” Camila assures her, but she takes the phone anyway and reads Lauren’s words over.

_Hi._

_The last couple of days have been an emotional rollercoaster for me, in the way that I felt I was literally plummeting off a cliff at 1000 miles per hour with nothing to stop me until I hit the bottom. But now I’m finally starting to feel like I’m going back up again, thanks to the amazing people I have surrounded myself with._

_Three days ago, certain media outlets publicised a picture that was taken – without my consent – of me kissing my girlfriend. But the thing I want to focus on here isn’t that. The emphasis should be put on how easy it is for some people to cross boundaries. Just because I am a public figure, it does not mean I can’t keep parts of my life private, and it certainly does not make it okay to out me. I understand that it wasn’t the fans who outed me, but the media, and a large majority of you were asking those sites to take the articles down and telling other fans not to spread the photo. But to the minority who continued to share it; as fans, I do not owe you the details of my personal life and relationships. It is not okay for you to decide if/when I choose to share that kind of thing. That is between me and my girlfriend._

_I am not going to tell you her name. I ask respectfully that you don’t try to ‘expose’ her or our relationship. It’s okay to speculate, but please keep it between yourselves and don’t tag me or whoever you assume she is in your posts._

_I had a tweet saved in my drafts, which I was planning on sending out at some point between now and the end of the year, and that was going to be my coming out. No dramatization of it, just a simple post. But the decision on when I was going to share my sexuality with my followers was taken away from me, but at least I still get a little say over how I do it. Today, I take my power back._

_I am a bisexual, Cuban American woman, and I am so proud of it._

_Sending you all love, light and happiness,_

_Lauren_

“Send it,” Camila assures her, “I don’t have anything to say, because it’s not _my_ coming out. It’s yours, and this post should be from you and you alone.”

“Are you sure?” Lauren asks, and when Camila nods, she presses further, “And you’re okay with me mentioning that I have a girlfriend? Because they’re _going_ to think that it’s you. Or Lucy, probably.”

“I can handle it, baby. I was a fan, I understand why they do the things they do and why they’re so passionate about it,” Camila assures her, wrapping her pinky around Lauren’s in a promise. “I’m okay with it. Go on, send it.”

Lauren reads it over one more time, before she screenshots it and attaches it to a tweet. She looks at the _send_ button, and her teeth graze across her bottom lip anxiously. “Will you at least press send with me?”

“That much, I can do,” Camila hovers her finger over the _send_ button, and when Lauren counts down to zero, they tap it together, and watch as the tweet sends itself out into the universe.

Lauren

“Well, everyone who has your notifications on is currently having a heart attack.”

Lauren closes the Twitter app pretty much instantly, not wanting to think about the comments from people. _They don’t matter_ , she tries to tell herself, _they’re just teenagers on the internet. It’s not like coming out can ruin your career in any way; you already play a lesbian on TV._ “Okay, well, I don’t want to think about _any_ of that anymore. It’s done, I’ve made my bed, might as well sleep in it. Do you want to meet my mom?”

“Not particularly, parents scare me,” Camila laughs, glancing back over to the house; Lauren knows her mom had been peering out earlier. “But we should probably get it over with. Is your dad home too?”

“No, he’s working. My mom is a teacher, so she gets the whole Thanksgiving break off, but my dad just gets the day itself,” Lauren follows Camila’s gaze towards the house, “Come on, let’s rip the band aid off.”

She takes Camila’s hand, trying to push down any residual anxiety she feels. Weirdly, she’s not bothered about her girlfriend meeting her mother; she’s _more_ bothered about the fact that she came out. She’s still a little shocked at her own actions, even though it had to be done.

She walks them away from the pool, and up towards the house, opening up the back door through to the kitchen for her girlfriend. She senses the nervousness; she’s so used to seeing it on herself that it’s not hard to notice in others. “Don’t worry, okay? My parents already like you after everything I’ve told them.”

“I know, it’s just meeting the parents is something I’ve never done with a girlfriend. I’m awkward enough around my _friends_ ’ parents…” Camila trails off, shaking her head, “It’s like little high school Camila with all of her anxiety decides to make a sudden reappearance.”

“Well, tell little high school Camila to fuck off and be the badass I know you are,” Lauren tries to encourage her, pressing a kiss to her cheek just as her mother walks into the kitchen. “You’re fine.”

“You must be Camila,” Clara doesn’t wait to start her assault, “it’s lovely to meet you. Lauren has told me so many things about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs Jauregui,” Camila says, and Lauren can hear the nerves behind it, but she mostly does well at masking it. “I know that Lauren really cares about her family, so it’s nice to be able to meet you.”

Lauren can see the way her mother looks a little guarded, but still courteous. She understands that; they have to be wary of people, particularly after the one time Lauren had feelings for a guy who turned out to want the publicity and not her. Even though they’d only gone on two dates, and it wasn’t _that_ much of a heartbreak, her parents were extra protective since then.

“How is it you two met again?” Clara asks, and Lauren almost rolls her eyes; she _had_ cried to her mother on the phone about Camila lying to her, and now she definitely regrets it. “I know it was at college…”

Camila looks a little startled, but she tells her. “Oh, yeah, um, I was studying in an empty classroom and Lauren came in and we got to talking and then a couple of days later she asked to sit with me in class.”

“Because I was totally crushing on you,” Lauren adds, sending her a comforting smile before turning to her mom and shooting her a look that says _please lay off_ , “I told you that we had a fight, but I’m glad we did, because it’s pretty much the reason we got together. I don’t think I’d ever have told Camila that I liked her if I hadn’t just blurted it out in the heat of the moment. And after that… it’s all been really great.”

Clara looks between them, and after a few moments, she smiles. “Alright. Would you like a drink or a snack, Camila?”

Camila looks at Lauren as if to say _help_ , and the older girl quickly says, “Uh, we were actually going to go out for a coffee date. I’m just going to head upstairs and get changed, but if you want something while you wait…”

“Okay, yeah, just some water please, Mrs Jauregui,” Camila says, and she looks a _little_ anxious that Lauren is disappearing upstairs, but if she wants to go out, she can’t exactly stroll to the coffee shop in her bikini. As her mom tells her to _please call her Clara,_ she looks to Lauren and asks, “I’ll see you in a few minutes?”

That’s code for _hurry up_ , and Lauren knows it, so she nods, presses a quick kiss to Camila’s cheek, and practically sprints to her bedroom, taking her bikini off and throwing on an old band t-shirt and some ripped black jeans. She brushes out her hair quickly, and then grabs her wallet, tucking it into her pocket.

As she heads downstairs again, she hears her mother’s voice, and at first, she rolls her eyes. _Probably just telling her embarrassing stories, her favourite activity._ But as she approaches the kitchen, she frowns at the words drifting out.

Lauren pauses outside the kitchen, listening to her mom’s words. “She’s been so sad for the last couple of years, but any time she talks about you, it’s like she lights up. So… thank you for making that happen. I’ve missed seeing her real smile.”

“You don’t know how much it means to me that I could do that for her,” Camila replies, “sometimes I just… I know I can never understand how hard it is for her, to be in the public eye all the time, but I can imagine how miserable it must be at times.”

“It wasn’t too bad until they started season two. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her in L.A., because it’s bad enough for us here. Any time I get a new class, there’s at least half of them asking if they can meet her, or if I can get her to come into school,” Clara says, and Lauren swallows the lump in her throat; she knows how bad it’s getting for her family, too. People asking questions, harassing them, trying to make them spill details about the show and her life. _And_ there’s the people who use her family and friends to try to get to her. “Her siblings have to be very careful about the people they’re friends with, because a lot of people see the name _Jauregui_ and think that’s their ticket to Lauren. Naturally we were all a little wary when she told us she’d made a new friend in case they were just using her. It’s happened before, so… we were worried. Even after she told us you were her girlfriend.”

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty much the captain of the Lauren defence squad, so I would never do anything that could possibly hurt her. She’s… very special to me.” Camila says, and Lauren can practically hear the smile on her face. “I promise, I’d never break her trust or use her for anything.”

Before her mother can reply, Lauren walks into the kitchen and flashes Camila a smile. Not commenting on what she’d heard, she says, “So… coffee?”

“Coffee,” Camila repeats, nodding and taking Lauren’s hand. “Are we driving?”

“I thought we could walk, there’s a place nearby that’s really good,” Lauren says, “I’d know, I used to work there, and I won like five thousand awards for being the best barista.”

“I can’t imagine you as a barista,” Camila comments as they head out of the kitchen, calling back a quick goodbye to Lauren’s mom their way out. Lauren grabs her house keys, slipping a pair of scuffed old Vans on as she unlocks the front door. “I can’t really imagine you as anything but an actor. I feel like that’s just what you were _supposed_ to do.”

Lauren hums in thought, following her out onto the front porch. She doesn’t bother to lock the door, because her mom is home, and closes it behind her, holding Camila’s hand as they walk down the driveway. She doesn’t consider dropping it, and when Camila pushes her sunglasses on, it gives her a little comfort; she won’t be as easily recognisable.

She knows that they need to have a proper talk about what they want to do and how they want to approach their relationship when it comes to PDA, but for now, she’s trying not to think about it. A coffee date with her girlfriend after not seeing her for a few days is the best kind of relief for her anxiety.

Lauren snorts in amusement at Camila’s words. “Well, acting is the only thing I’m good at, so…”

“Shut the fuck up, I know you can sing, play piano, and you paint, so…” Camila lists, “you are quite obviously good at other things.”

“Fine, the only thing I’m _really_ good at, then,” Lauren corrects herself, and even though Camila looks like she’s going to argue, she adds, “and, uh, I also write poetry, but that’s _private._ ”

“Poetry?” Camila looks genuinely interested. “I bet it’s amazing. What do you write about?”

“Well, it’s sort of like my journal. But instead of writing about my day, I write poems about the things that are on my mind, and I draw little sketches,” Lauren explains; it was a thing she’d always done, but more recently she’d started doing it often. She’s found that it helps to get things out onto paper. “But they’re just, you know. Silly.”

“I doubt that,” Camila easily replies, swinging their hands as they walk down the street. “Anything that comes out of your beautiful mind is obviously going to be perfect.”

Lauren blushes, because people complimenting her intelligence over her looks has always made her weak at the knees. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Camila flashes her a smile. “I love the way your mind works.”

“Tanks, Camz.” Lauren says in her baby voice, squeezing her girlfriend’s hand. “You know, I still need that playlist of your music.”

“Oh, I actually made that yesterday.” Camila replies, and like she’s just remembered, she pulls an old iPod out of her back pocket. “Here. There’s some rough demos and stuff on here, but like I said, they’re _rough_. Nowhere near perfect. My favourite song out of the ones on there is probably… _In the Dark._ ”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” Lauren turns the iPod over in her free hand, feeling like she’s holding a piece of Camila’s soul. “I’ll listen tonight.”

“And if you hate it, just don’t tell me,” Camila plays it off like a joke, “I would cry myself to sleep.”

Lauren frowns. “I’d never hate anything that came from you. Anyway, come on, just up here.”

She tugs Camila towards the coffee shop, and while she _is_ thinking about fans that could be lurking, she tries to brush it off. Friends hold hands, and she only just came out like half an hour ago. Some of them probably haven’t even seen her post.

As she pushes open the door, there are plenty of free seats, including her favourites by the windows; the couch seats that are the comfiest in the whole café. When she was on her break from work, she’d always stretch out on it and eat her lunch; her boss was generally pretty chill about things.

She heads up to the counter to order, one of her old friends and co-workers Erica addresses her by saying, “Well, don’t even need to ask what you’re having. Double caramel latte and a croissant?”

“Yep, and a hot cocoa and a chocolate chip muffin for this one,” She gestures at Camila, and the younger girl isn’t at all surprised that she remembered her usual order, since that’s what they get pretty much every Wednesday morning. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Erica replies as she punches the order in. “I see you’ve been keeping yourself out of the spotlight. Don’t think I’ve heard anything about you for about… four hours?”

The sarcasm is refreshing, and Lauren snorts in amusement. “Yeah, obviously. You know me, I love to keep a low profile.”

She doesn’t pay; her old boss generally appears out of nowhere to scold her any time she tries, and she’d stopped attempting to leave the cash around the store when she’d come in a couple of months back and the old woman had thrust an envelope of cash at her and told her that she _didn’t pay here._

“This is the girl you were making out with, then?” Erica asks as she passes her a note with the order number on. “She’s cute.”

“I know she’s cute, I have eyes,” Lauren retorts, bringing Camila forwards and introducing her, “Camz, this is Erica, she was one of my old co-workers and is one of my current friends. This is Camila. She’s…”

After a few moments of hesitation and glancing around to see if anyone is listening in, she finishes, “She’s my girlfriend.”

It’s hard not to see the happiness radiating off her any time she says that. Erica notices it, and smiles. “I’m happy for you, Lo. Anyway, this coffee isn’t going to make itself. Go sit down, I’ll bring it over to you.”

Lauren nods, and when Erica turns away, she takes two fifties out of her wallet and stuffs them in the tip jar before she can see. Then, she takes Camila by the hand, pulling her over to her favourite seats by the window, immediately sinking down into the couch. Camila sits next to her, ignoring the couch on the opposite side of the table completely, and squeezing Lauren’s hand gently.

“So,” Camila prefaces, and Lauren slouches back, getting herself comfortable, “have you checked Twitter at all?”

“Nope, and I honestly don’t think I want to,” Lauren replies, before she pulls her phone out of her back pocket and unlocks it, opening up Twitter and dropping the phone in Camila’s lap. “You do it for me.”

Camila laughs, picking it up. “You realise you give me the power to hack you right now? I could post _anything_ I wanted.”

“But you wouldn’t,” Lauren finishes, and she knows that for a fact. She trusts Camila. “What are people saying? And don’t give me any of the negative responses.”

Camila scrolls through the replies. “There aren’t any negative responses. Your tweet already has fifty thousand retweets and a hundred and thirty thousand likes. Most people are congratulating you, saying they’re proud, and there are a couple of _Laucy_ people, but that’s mostly just under Lucy’s tweet congratulating you, but it’s funny because she literally wrote ‘so proud of my lil bi sibling’, so...”

Lauren blinks in surprise. “Lucy congratulated me? Who else?”

“Keana, Vero, a bunch of different companies like iHeartRadio and BuzzFeed, Halsey, Kehlani,” Camila lists, “loads of people. Even Keaton has tweeted saying he’s proud of you. The account for _Silverhollow_ say they’re proud too.”

“Oh,” Lauren smiles when the words sink in. “Okay. That’s good, then.”

Camila squeezes her hand, passing her phone back. “I’m immensely proud of you too. I know part of why you came out is because you’ve been _forced_ out, a little bit, but… I’m still so proud.”

“I’m proud of myself,” Lauren admits, because she never thought she’d ever actually _do it_. She’d wanted to, but she was still dealing with the magnitude of the situation, and with the fans who would think they _helped_ her when really they were the ones who made accepting herself that much harder. “Anyway. Enough about me. Let’s talk about when I’m coming over to meet your family.”

Camila lets out an over-dramatic groan, saying something about how she’s sure her mom will embarrass her, and Lauren just smiles. At first, she thought this was the worst week of her life, but it’s actually turning out to be alright.


	19. Chapter 19

Lauren

She knocks on the door, trying to ignore the way the anxiety builds her in her chest. She knows that Camila will open it, and _Camila_ makes everything calm down for a little while. _Her parents will like you,_ Lauren thinks to herself, _you’re always good with parents. It’s fine._

Her reassurances don’t help, but when the front door swings open, and she meets Camila’s gaze, it’s like her mind quietens down, because it’s far too focused on thinking _wow, she’s my girlfriend_ than worrying about everything else.

“Hi,” She meets Camila’s gaze and flashes her a soft smile, “I missed you.”

Camila pulls her in for a hug, “I missed you too, mi amor.”

Lauren relaxes into her touch, murmuring into her shoulder, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come over sooner. I didn’t realise how much family time my mom wanted to cram in, and I needed to hang with Alexa too. And, you know, with everything that happened…”

“It’s okay,” Camila assures her, pulling out of the hug and kissing her in greeting, “but _that_ was much needed. Fair warning; my parents know that you’re my girlfriend, which means you’ll _definitely_ be fussed over. I’ve never brought anyone home before, so…”

“Oh… really?” Lauren blinks in surprise, but she takes Camila’s words at face value as she follows her inside, dropping her overnight bag by the door. “Oh, don’t freak out or anything, but I brought you the jacket. I forgot to give it to you when you were at my place.”

“Really?” Camila looks like she’s just told her she’s going on an all-expenses paid luxury cruise or something, “can I have it now?”

“Alright,” She opens up her bag and digs around until she finds it at the bottom, underneath her pyjamas. Passing it to Camila, she studies the awestruck look on her girlfriend’s face, and announces, “should I be worried that you’re going to leave me for that jacket?’

Camila laughs, rolling her eyes, and pulling her in for another kiss. “No, no, obviously not, it’s just… I don’t know. Exciting? I don’t know what the right word is. It’s just, I’ve liked the show since it started, and this is Vanessa’s _iconic_ jacket. And yes, yes, obviously you play her and everything, but like, I kind of forget about that sometimes.”

It’s stupid, but Lauren honestly likes that she forgets. “Oh. Well… that’s good. Where are your parents?”

“Nervous about meeting them?” Camila raises her eyebrows in amusement, still clutching onto the jacket like it’s her lifeline, “My dad is at work, and he’s never really that interested in meeting people anyway, but I’m sure my mom is waiting around here somewhere, waiting for the right moment to intrude.”

Apparently, _that’s_ the right moment. A woman who pretty much just looks like an older version of Camila, just with lighter hair and glasses, comes out of the kitchen, already armed with a tin filled with cookies, which makes Lauren immediately warm to her, because _cookies._

“Hola, Lauren, I’m Sinu, it’s lovely to meet you,” the woman smiles, taking her jacket for her and hanging it up, snatching _Vanessa’s_ jacket from Camila’s hands as well, but the younger girl grabs it back. “Karla has told me so much about you.”

“Okay, _please_ no comments about how I’ve been telling you about her for _years_ , thanks,” Camila shoots daggers at a little girl peering out from what looks like the living room, before announcing, _“See?_ Told you I was telling the truth, Sofi.”

Sofi looks between Camila and Lauren before she announces, “bet you just paid her or something.”

“Shut up,” Camila rolls her eyes, before she takes Lauren’s hand and tells her, “Lo, this is Sofia, my _annoying_ little sister. She doesn’t believe I’m really dating you because _apparently_ you’re too cool for me.”

“I mean, I _am_ too cool for you,” Lauren jokes, before she squeezes Camila’s hand and tells the kid, “but I’m still dating her regardless of her coolness factor.”

“Hey,” Camila gives her a light shove, pushes her sister back into the lounge, and then rounds on her mother, “I think we’re just going to hang out in my room.”

Ignoring her daughter completely, Sinu asks Lauren, “Would you like a drink? Here, have a cookie.”

“Thank you, Mrs Cabello,” Lauren takes a cookie, wondering if they’re homemade, but Camila mutters in her ear that they’re _not_ , and she’d bought them yesterday, “and I wouldn’t mind some water if that’s alright?”

“I’ll have a coke,” Camila calls after her mother, and when Sinu calls back _get it yourself_ , she rolls her eyes, “See how I’m treated around here? Damn.”

Lauren laughs, “I’d get it for you, but I don’t know where your kitchen is.”

Camila tugs her through there, and Sinu gives her a glass of water as Camila grabs a can of coke from the fridge. “Anyway, like I said, Lauren and I will be in my bedroom.”

As Lauren calls out, “it was nice to meet you,” Camila grabs her by the hand and pulls her down the hallway, past the obviously adorable childhood pictures hung on the wall, and into a bedroom. She hangs the jacket up on the back of the door and looks at it almost lovingly, and then turns to Lauren, the exact same expression amplified by a thousand.

“I seriously missed you,” Camila tells her, shutting the door behind them. “Anyway. Welcome to my childhood bedroom. Obviously I took down the posters.”

“I told you to keep them up so I could make fun of you for it!” Lauren pouts, but she’s only teasing, and she sits down on the messily made bed and glances around the room. It’s similar to her room at college; untidy, but in the way that everything still has its place. It’s so in line with Camila’s personality.

She spies some of the books on the shelf, and stands up, plucking _To Kill a Mockingbird_ from its place and holding it up. “Good taste.”

Camila blushes. “To be honest, I read it because of you. You said it was your favourite book, and…”

Lauren’s stomach flutters. _She read it because of me._ Even if she meant it in the whole fan/idol way, it still means more, because _Camila_ means more to her than that. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Camila admits, “I really enjoyed it, though. So thanks for the indirect recommendation. Anything else I should read?”

“ _The Handmaid’s Tale._ ” Lauren replies, before she thinks to her other favourites and adds, “ _1984\. Great Expectations._ Um… are you into like, sci-fi? Because _Ready Player One_ is actually quite good, I read that a few weeks ago.”

“I’ll keep those in mind,” Camila flashes her a small smile, “at the moment I’m reading just some cheesy YA romance novel. Sometimes you just need something a little less _heavy_.”

“I feel that.” Lauren replies, sliding the book back onto its place on the shelf and looking around a little more. She smirks in amusement when she finds the Vanessa Funko Pop on Camila’s windowsill. “Cute. You’re a collector?”

Camila glances from the figure to Lauren, before she rolls her eyes and petulantly replies, “you know I’m not.”

“Oh, so you just bought this one because you have a _crush_ on me?” Lauren teases her, putting it down and pulling her in closer by the waist when her girlfriend remains sulking, “Come on, you know I think it’s cute.”

“I know, but it’s just like…” Camila sighs, shaking her head, “doesn’t matter.”

“No, talk to me,” Lauren urges her, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to her, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s just… I sometimes feel like… a little _pathetic_ for it,” Camila admits, and the way she looks so sad makes Lauren’s heart hurt. “And it’s like- even though I have you, I’m still a big fan of the show, but I feel like I _can’t_ be because it’s weird if I fangirl over my _girlfriend._ ”

“Hey, I’m totally here for you hyping me up,” Lauren jokingly replies, but when she sees how upset Camila is, she softens and adds, “Okay. I won’t tease you about it. And I don’t think it’s pathetic. So you were a fan. It’s not a big deal to me, and it shouldn’t be to you.”

She takes her girlfriend’s hand and gives it a comforting squeeze, but Camila still doesn’t seem too sure. “I just don’t ever want to do anything that weirds you out. But then I still want to be able to- to express my liking for the show, you know?”

“Then do it,” Lauren shrugs; even though she literally has no idea what’s going on in the show outside her scenes, she still wants to hear her girlfriend talk about her interests. “I want to hear you talking about the things you like. Even if that includes the show I used to be on.”

“ _Used_ to be on,” Camila repeats, “even that’s weird. Everything is so different compared to just a few months ago.”

“A good different?” Lauren inquires, and Camila nods reassuringly. “Good, because I feel the same way. Meeting you is the best thing that’s happened to me in years- _don’t_ look at me like that, I mean it.”

When she finally looks at her like she believes her, Camila sighs and asks, “tell me something.”

Lauren frowns, and when Camila lays back on her bed, resting against her pillows, the older girl joins her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something about you.” Camila vaguely explains, and when Lauren pauses in thought, she quickly adds, “Like… what did you have on your resume when you auditioned for _Silverhollow?_ You haven’t been in anything else, like, before that. I’d know.”

When Camila sends her a small, goofy grin, Lauren kisses her. “Shouldn’t you know all the other stuff too?”

“I know the stuff you’ve done _after_. Like that episode of _Black Mirror_ you were in. And that movie where you played that stalker. Loved that even though it was a little too heterosexual for my liking. Didn’t really _get_ that movie, because if someone as hot as _you_ was stalking me, I wouldn’t be complaining.” Camila comments, and when Lauren lays back against the pillows and stares up at the ceiling in thought, she adds, “come on. What’s the _first_ thing you _ever_ acted in?”

“The first thing was honestly my most iconic role, the one I think everyone knows me for,” Lauren jokes, and announces, “it was when I played Mary in my kindergarten nativity play. I was very method about it, carrying around the little doll that was supposed to be baby Jesus because I was its _mommy._ ”

Camila laughs, and she rolls over, kissing the tip of Lauren’s nose. “That’s so cute. Does your mom have a copy of that on tape? Because I _need_ to see it.”

“I’m ninety percent certain she does,” Lauren assures her, reaching out and brushing Camila’s hair back from her face, “you know, she likes to brag that she’s the only person on the planet with access to my entire filmography.  I’m surprised she didn’t force you to watch anything with her.”

“Alright, what other plays were you in in school?” Camila asks her, “anything interesting?”

“Well, after my Oscar-winning performance as Mary in the kindergarten nativity, I took a short break from my career to focus on my studies,” Lauren jokes, and when Camila laughs lightly, she adds, “first, second and third grade were a very stressful time for me. But in fourth grade, we were doing _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_. I played Veruca Salt. That was a fun one, because it gave me _full_ permission to be mean to this boy who used to push me over in the playground, so I loved it. My mom used to tell me that he only pushed me because he _liked_ me, but really it was because I was kind of a crybaby so it made me an easy target.”

“Wow, what an asshole,” Camila laughs, “was he playing Charlie?”

“Nope, he was playing Willy Wonka, which like, I don’t know _how_ , since he never remembered his lines,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “they didn’t take it as seriously as I did. But that play was a favourite of mine, and after that I signed up for the after school drama club, which meant I automatically got a part in the next play we did whether I wanted to or not – everyone in the club had to participate.”

Camila hums in thought; back when she was in school, everyone in her class had to join in on the Christmas play, even if it was just to be in the chorus, which Camila always was. She was never front and centre like Lauren. “And what was the next play?”

“ _The Wizard of Oz_ in fifth grade.” Lauren flashes a proud grin, remembering the way her parents had been so proud of her when they’d picked her up after school and she’d told them she had the lead role, “I played Dorothy. My whole family came and I made sure to save them seats on the front row. Such an attention whore.”

Camila snorts in amusement. “Aren’t _all_ you actors just a bunch of attention whores?”

“Alright, _stereotype_ much?” Lauren retorts. “I thought you wanted me to have this whole self-indulgent trip down memory lane?”

“I do, I do,” Camila laughs, “please continue with your complete filmography. I _will_ need video evidence of all of these, by the way.”

“I’m sure my mom would love to have a little marathon with you.” Lauren embarrassedly replies; it’s actually her mother’s favourite activity, to wrangle her friends into watching her old plays while Lauren cringes embarrassedly. “Anyway, where were we? Sixth grade? Ooh, first year of middle school, okay. That was a _bad_ year for me, both on stage and off. The director had _no_ clue what she was doing, and she obviously didn’t appreciate my talent, or she wouldn’t have cast me as some stupid background character who had _three_ lines.”

Camila laughs, pulling her in for another kiss, and when she feels the younger girl’s hand push up the hem of her shirt and trace soft patterns against the bare skin of her waist, she’s calm, even though she’s _still_ a little salty about it. “You’re still mad?”

“That teacher had it out for me, I _swear_. She was the drama teacher at my new middle school – thankfully she was retiring that year – but she put in my school report that I never put in as much _effort_ as the other kids. Like, _yeah_ , I don’t need to, I’m better than them,” Lauren rolls her eyes; those were the exact words she’d said to her mother, when she’d read her report card and asked her why she wasn’t putting in more effort in her drama class. “She was just salty that she never made it in acting but _I_ did.”

“Well, I mean, you _hadn’t_ at that point,” Camila points out, and Lauren just rolls her eyes, cuddling up to her, “unless you mean your iconic role as Mary when you were five?”

“Yeah, exactly, I was like, on an _unchartered_ level of fame, she was obviously just jealous,” Lauren sarcastically replies, but then muses aloud, “I wonder if she’s ever seen _Silverhollow._ Probably not, but imagine how satisfying that would be for me. Should go back and ask if I can add ‘fuck _you_ Mrs Johnson, bitter old hag’ into the DVD commentary.”

Camila laughs. “I think you’d know if she’d seen it; she’d have come to set and told you that you’re not putting enough effort in. Then she’d try to demote you.”

“God, I hated her,” Lauren laughs, “so, sixth grade, not a good year in general.”

Camila frowns. “How come? Aside from the teacher who obviously didn’t appreciate your talents.”

“I mean, it’s middle school, so everyone was kind of bitchy, and I was kind of socially awkward. Still am,” Lauren admits, shrugging. “But I was trying to make friends and stuff, but outside of school I was dealing with the fact that my grandmother was sick. She passed away, and a group of girls who were apparently my friends – not really – were making fun of that. They were particularly horrible until I started ignoring them and everything they did and they eventually lost interest. I think the worst thing was when I was awkwardly ‘dating’ a guy one of them liked and they made a whole Facebook page calling me a slut.”

“What the fuck,” Camila practically growls, sitting up like she’s ready to storm out of the room, “What’s their addresses? I’m going to go fight them.”

“Alright, like you wouldn’t get yourself killed,” Lauren laughs, but when Camila doesn’t look any less serious, she sends her a reassuring smile, “seriously Camz, it’s all good. It hurt at the time, obviously, but I’m over it. _Way_ over it.”

“Alright then, but I still hope they spend eternity in the fiery pits of hell.” Camila casually replies, and Lauren snorts with laughter, “Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

“Camz, come cuddle,” Lauren whines, pulling her back down and snuggling up, “I was having fun bitching about my horrible teacher with you.”

Camila sighs, lying back down and putting her arm around Lauren’s waist, “I just hope that all of these people who have been mean to you have seen _Silverhollow_ , just so they know that you’re doing great and you’re completely unbothered by their childish antics.”

“Antics is a great word,” Lauren comments, before she remembers where she’d left off in her little story, and continues, “okay, seventh grade then. The bitchy teacher who hated me had left school, which meant we got a new teacher, and I was her _favourite_ student. Even though they’re not allowed to have favourites, I _knew_ I was her favourite. So _naturally_ , when the school play was _Romeo and Juliet_ , guess who was Juliet.”

“Wow, so many starring roles,” Camila jokes, “it’s a shock you haven’t won an Oscar yet.”

“Um, I _did_ , for Mary,” Lauren retorts, “weren’t you paying attention? I was the first five year old to win a fake Oscar _ever_.”

“Such a big achievement, I’m so proud of you,” Camila jokes, “anyway, what about eighth grade?”

“Eighth grade I actually took a year off. I don’t know, I felt like I didn’t have time for drama club after school because I wanted to spend time with my friends. I was _too cool_ for acting when I was a thirteen year old, obviously,” Lauren laughs, “but when I started high school, I realised I missed it, so I signed up for the school musical. It was _Hairspray._ ”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Let me guess, you played Tracy?”

“No, actually. Penny.” Lauren shrugs. “I was particularly embarrassed about the singing part, since I’d never sung anything past like, my dramatic performances of Paramore songs in my bedroom. Especially not _in front_ of people. But it turned out to be alright.”

“We should collaborate on something. I actually have an assignment for my music technology and production class that involves recording a track. Usually I do the vocals myself, but…” Camila sends her a sheepish smile. “I know you can sing.”

Lauren hums in thought. “Alright. Sounds good.”

“I didn’t think you’d accept that easily,” Camila laughs, pulling her in for a kiss, “but thank you, baby. Anyway, what’d you do after _Hairspray?”_

“In sophomore year we did _Macbeth_ , and I played Lady Macbeth. Another favourite of mine,” Lauren admits; she kind of _loves_ to play the villain. “Being the villain is the fun part of acting, I think. Lowkey want them to reveal that Vanessa is the killer so I can do that, but that’s like… probably the _least_ likely outcome.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “The way you said that implies that you’re going to go back to the show.”

Lauren just shrugs; she hasn’t made any decisions yet, and she doesn’t have to until at the very latest, March. And that’s only if she wants to take the season four guest appearance opportunity. Avoiding the question all together, she continues, “Junior year was another Shakespeare play. _A Midsummer Night’s Dream._ I was Helena. And then _senior_ year was _Grease._ I played Rizzo. Apparently that’s what made a casting director think I was good enough for a real career, or enough to offer me the opportunity to audition with literally _no_ proper experience to my name. When I got the part, I graduated early in April and moved out to L.A.”

Camila smiles. “I bet your parents were proud.”

“It literally wasn’t even certain that the show would even make it past season one, and because of that, I was being so awkward and complaining to my parents about how I’d have missed my prom and graduation for _nothing_.” Lauren laughs, but it’s a little bitter, because she’s still upset that she’d ended up missing her prom. “But it did well, and then we got a second season. And a third. And a fourth, but…”

When she trails off, Camila seems to sense the sadness, and suggests, “well, I’m sure there’s some kind of drama club at college that you could sign up for! Then you wouldn’t have to miss it so much.”

“It’s not even _just_ that,” Lauren admits, “It’s more… we’re kind of like a family, on set. And I miss that whole dynamic. And I feel like… like if I did go back, I’d regret missing out on season four, because they’ve planned six seasons, which means we’re halfway through. After that, it’ll be over.”

Camila looks sympathetic, and she kisses her forehead before she sits but and brushes Lauren’s hair back with her fingers. “Then tell them you want to be in it.”

“But I don’t. Well, I _do_ , but I don’t want to have to be in L.A and under all that pressure. That’s why it’s all so _complicated_.” Lauren lets out an exasperated sigh. “Being away from everything has been _such_ a weight off my chest. And I feel like since I’m still in kind of a fragile headspace, if I went back I’d just spiral until I broke. But then I miss it so fucking much.”

Camila pulls her in for a tight hug, and Lauren buries her face into her neck, almost like she’s hiding away from everything else. If she could just _stay_ in this moment, stay hugging Camila and never let go, she’d be happy.

“The moment we get back to college, we’re signing you up for some kind of drama club. I’ll even go with you if you don’t want to go by yourself,” Camila assures her, and Lauren’s stomach flutters, “I just want to see you happy.”

“I am happy,” Lauren assures her, even if that’s not true sometimes, “I’m happy when I’m with you.”

Camila sends her the softest smile, and she pulls her in for a kiss, “I’m happy with you too.”

“Now, tell me about your musical passion,” Lauren snuggles up to her again, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder. “Tell me about your performances.”

Camila barks out a laugh. “There aren’t any, minus the compulsory ones for class. It’ll sound dumb to you, but I kind of have stage fright.”

Lauren blinks in surprise. “Wait, but… why?”

“I guess I just find myself overanalysing what the people in the audience will think. And I’ll be so tense that I’ll crack on a note and go flat or I’ll miss a chord on my guitar,” Camila lists, “it’s just always been kind of a fear of mine. I know it’s something that you need to get used to, but I find it so hard to _force_ myself to do it.”

“Alright, pinky promise time,” Lauren pushes herself up, holding her pinky out, “ _you_ will find a way to get over your stage fright, and _I’ll_ find a way to get over… you know. Everything. And we’re going to help each other through it all.”

Camila raises her eyebrows, but loops her pinky around Lauren’s, “Alright. I promise.”

“As do I,” Lauren flashes her a grin, “we got this, babe.”

“Yeah,” Camila lets go of her pinky but takes her hand, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze, “we do.”


	20. Chapter 20

Camila

She’s honestly a little mad that Lauren never pursued a singing career when she gets her in the little recording studio at college. She’d booked it for two hours, to record Lauren’s parts of the song she’s submitting for her music technology final and rerecord anything she needs to, and as Lauren sings through the song, she finds herself basically _entranced._

 _“Everyone comes with scars, but you can love them away, I told you that I wasn’t perfect, you told me the same,”_ Lauren sings, and looks up at Camila, uncertainty written on her face. Camila pauses the recording, and Lauren steps out of the booth, “Was that okay?”

“Perfect,” Camila smiles, “I think I’m going to get you to sing the whole song through a couple of times, and then I’ll do the same, and then… I don’t know. I’ll figure out what parts are going to go where. But I’m pretty certain I want you to lead the chorus.”

Lauren blushes. “But it’s your song, you should-”

“It’s our song, Laur,” Camila assures her, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “Besides, it’d suit your voice more. I love the rasp to it.”

“Well… _tanks,_ baby,” Lauren wraps her arms around her in a hug, nuzzling against her, and Camila feels like she might melt. “Do you want me to sing it through again?”

“Uh… yeah, do the second verse, since we’ve only gone through that once, but I feel like I’m going to take that for myself,” Camila laughs, “even though I’m _seriously_ tempted to just give the whole song to you.”

“I think you should definitely do the pre-chorus,” Lauren says, and then she frowns to herself and continues with, “what do I know, _you’re_ the musician here…”

“No, no, feel free to put your ideas forward,” Camila smiles reassuringly; she figures that pushing in this respect and making Lauren feel as comfortable as possible would be the best way to get started on their whole pact, and helping Lauren with her anxiety. “This is your song as much as it is mine, and once I’ve got my grade back, I’m putting it on YouTube. I feel like that’s a method of- of putting my music out there without _literally_ prancing out on stage.”

“You’re right, actually,” Lauren blinks in realisation, “yeah, you should totally like, post covers and stuff. It’s like performing publicly, but _not_ in real-time. That’s a really good first step. Damn, you’re already killing it.”

“Only because you’re giving me the confidence by making this thing a duet,” Camila supplies, because it’s kind of true; even though she has a ton of songs she’s recorded on her laptop, as well as snuck in here to record _properly_ , she’s never had the guts to put them out there. “It makes it easier.”

“You should post the songs you gave me. I loved them, every single one. _Into It_ was… interesting. I wonder who that’s about.” Lauren flashes her a teasing grin, squeezes her hand, then nods towards the booth, “am I doing this again, then?”

Camila nods. “After you answer something for me.”

Lauren’s eyebrows dip into the cutest frown, but she nods in consent. “Anything.”

“Why did you never pursue music?” Camila asks her, genuinely curious. “You have the _means_ to, and you have the raw talent. _And_ I know you play piano and guitar.”

“I _don’t_ play guitar, I played what they taught me for the show, but I know nothing about it. Not like you.” Lauren says. “Piano, yes, but it’s just… I don’t know. At the end of the day, it’s not my passion. That’s always been acting. I’d _totally_ do a musical, though.”

“Oh my god, I’d love that,” Camila replies, “you could be in like, a gay as fuck _Grease_ reboot. Obviously as the female version of Danny Zuko.”

“Only if you’ll be my Sandy,” Lauren blurts out, and Camila can tell that she’s anxious for her response. She reaches out to tuck Lauren’s hair behind her ear, and for a moment, when she sees how nervous she is just from flirting with her own _girlfriend_ , it makes her feel guilty. Guilty that it was the fans that bullied her into being so nervous, guilty that even though she never participated in anything that hurt Lauren so much, she was still a part of that group.

“I’d be _one hundred_ percent down for that,” Camila tells her, trying to seem casual and not overly-reassuring. Then, flashing the older girl a grin, she adds, “go on, get your beautiful ass back into that booth. Run through from the second verse.”

“Okay.” Lauren steps back into the little booth, putting the headphones on. Camila starts recording again, and then sends her a dorky thumbs-up as a signal to go from where she’s sat in the cramped outer room.

She gets a little dazed while listening to Lauren sing, and ends up sucked into sort of a trance. She _really_ adores her voice, and while she knows that acting is Lauren’s passion, she’s falling in love with her singing too. She makes a mental note to force Lauren to help her out with vocals whenever she needs it, just so she has an excuse to hear her singing.

When Lauren finishes singing the song through, Camila snaps out of her daze and stops recording. Almost anxiously, Lauren murmurs into the mic, “was that alright?”

“Not only are you my favourite actress, but you’re _also_ my favourite singer,” Camila assures her, beckoning her out of the booth. She looks at the clock, and when she realises it’s almost three, she pouts. “Oh. Do you need to head off to your class now?”

Lauren glances at the clock as she steps out of the booth, shutting the door behind her. She hums in thought, before pulling Camila in for a kiss. “Five more minutes,” she mumbles between kisses, and Camila quickly wraps her arms around her waist. The younger girl gasps in surprise, but quickly finds herself, pushing Lauren up against the door to the little studio and deepening the kiss, loving the way Lauren’s tongue feels against hers, the way it makes the older girl moan when she gently bites down on her bottom lip.

She pulls back, but not by much; their lips are still brushing when she murmurs, “you know, I _would_ push you up against the sound desk but I don’t want to risk accidentally deleting everything we’ve done over the last hour.”

Lauren laughs, and cups her jaw, pulling her back in for another kiss. Camila smirks against her, before she kisses down to her jaw, dotting kisses down her neck until she finds that sweet spot that makes Lauren gasp her name, “ _Camz.”_

She leaves her mark right there on Lauren’s neck, totally visible above the crewneck collar of the band tee she’s wearing. “Enjoy _that.”_

Lauren’s fingers brush over the point on her neck where Camila had left the hickey in a cute little daze. She meets her gaze, blushes, and then dodges around her to grab her bomber jacket from the back of the chair. “Way to make it obvious.”

“You like it,” Camila challenges her to say anything _different_ , and when Lauren just blushes, she knows she’s right. She pulls her in for another kiss, but this one is sweeter, softer, more of a _goodbye_ kiss than something to tease her with. “While that was a lovely five minutes, I know you have a class to get to.”

Lauren sighs. “I so _badly_ want to say _fuck class_ and stay with you, but…”

“But you’re a teacher’s pet,” Camila teases her, “go on, get out of here, before I change my mind and make you stay.”

Instead of kissing her again, Lauren throws her arms around Camila in a hug. “Come over tonight. I’ll meet you here after class, I know you’ve only got this room booked until four.”

Camila tangles her fingers into Lauren’s hair, almost sensing the anxiety radiating off her girlfriend. She wants to tell her to stay, just so she can completely goof off for the next hour and have Lauren on her lap, let her mess around with the buttons on the sound desk and see if they can make the weirdest song ever. But instead she hums in reply, nodding against her. “Okay. I’ll see you at four.”

“Good,” Lauren pulls away, and she looks at her with so much adoration that Camila desperately doesn’t want to let her go. “See you later, Camz.”

When she pulls her backpack onto her shoulder and ducks out of the studio, Camila sighs, missing her already.

Lauren

_If it hadn’t been for Camila,_ Lauren thinks to herself, _I would’ve left this dumbass college and ran back to L.A. with my tail between my legs._ It’s the definite truth; Camila is the only positive thing she’s gotten out of this experience. She likes her _classes_ , but the information is the same as it would’ve been had she still been doing online school; the lectures she attends in person were merely recorded and made available through the school VLE, and the seminar worksheets were always made into a compulsory weekly activity. It was lonely, to be sure, but it’s better than getting _stared_ at all the time.

She’d hoped it would’ve died down by now, like Alexa had promised in that phone call in her first week. It’s not as bad as it was, she’ll admit that much, but for every casual _Silverhollow_ viewer, there’s also an obsessive fan who clearly won’t _ever_ get over her being here.

There’s also that one girl who likes to glare at her, the one who’d approached her on her very first day. The one that Lauren thought wanted to be friends, until she’d called her _Vanessa_ , but by that point she’d already been wrangled into having lunch with her and her group of friends, and she’d had to sit through fifteen minutes of them asking her to break contract and tell them what was going to happen on the show until she’d pretended to go to the bathroom and escaped to her next class a whole forty minutes early, and _then_ proceeded to have a minor panic attack in the empty classroom. But that girl, the ringleader of the group, she’s in this class with her, and she always stares and makes her uncomfortable.

 _Think about Camila_ , Lauren tells herself, _you get to see her in five minutes, just think about that._ Genuinely, even if Camila _had_ lied to her initially, she’d always been so kind and understanding and _safe_ , and Lauren hasn’t felt safe around a new person since she’d started working on _Silverhollow_ and she met Lucy, Keana and Vero.

When their lecturer finishes early, Lauren packs her things away, and pulls her phone from her pocket, texting Camila.

**my lauren (3:54PM): Finished class now, on my way to meet you. Want to stop by the grocery store on the way home and pick up some supplies because I’m making dinner. Anything particular you’re craving?**

Once she’s sent the text, she shoulders her backpack and almost walks straight into the glaring-girl. She’d forgotten her name, but it’s not like she knows _Lauren’s_ either. “Oh, sorry.”

“Who gave you that hickey?” Glaring-girl asks, and Lauren touches a hand to her neck; she’d forgotten about that. “Aren’t you supposed to be dating that girl from your show? Emilia?”

“Her name is Lucy, and that’s fictional,” Lauren rolls her eyes, thinking of the promise she’d made to Camila. _I’ll find a way to get over everything._ An obnoxious confrontational fan is a step, right? As long as she doesn’t freak out. Steeling herself, she continues, “It’s none of your business who gave me a hickey. I have a right to privacy as much as you do.”

Turning around, she takes the long way across the empty row of seats, proud of herself for staying calm. She allows herself a few deep breaths as she makes her way outside, pushing down the anxiety at the pit of her stomach, and heading back over to the music buildings.

Camila is already waiting outside for her, “I know you haven’t read my text back yet, but I have requested _ropa vieja_ for dinner. Seems fitting for a couple of Cubans like us.”

“My grandmother’s recipe is pretty fucking fire, so I can definitely do that.” Lauren flashes her a small smile. “Oh, by the way, I hope you’ll be proud of me; I handled an obnoxious person without freaking.”

“I _am_ proud. Insanely proud,” Camila grins, and when she takes her hand, it’s like any residual anxiety Lauren had felt fizzles away, “look at us. We’re both killing it today, aren’t we?”

Lauren hums in agreement. “We are.”

“Alright, another concept,” Camila proposes, “the drama school is in the next block, if you want to go and see if they have some kind of club? You know, that you could join?”

She’s a little less certain about that, even if she _does_ miss acting with everything in her. “I- did you mean it? When you said you’d come with me?”

“Of course, mi amor,” Camila instantly replies, “if that’s something you’d want, then I’m more than happy to come with you and share your passion.”

“I would want that,” Lauren admits; the idea of going to a club when she doesn’t know anybody, when anyone could be some kind of psychotic fan, doesn’t seem like a good thing to brave alone. “If that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” Camila squeezes her hand, “it’s just in here, I think. Mani had to use one of the rooms for practicing this choreography once since all the dance studios were booked, and Dinah was away for the weekend visiting her family, so she asked me to help her with it. I may be clumsy, but I actually kind of got the hang of it towards the end. But yeah, that’s why I know where the drama stuff is.”

“You’ll have to show me that choreography,” Lauren raises her eyebrows at the _very_ nice mental image she has. “I could see you as a dancer.”

Camila snorts. “Maybe with a _lot_ of training. And even then, I’d be nowhere near Mani’s level. She’s _insanely_ good and I definitely think she’ll end up going pro.”

When they get to the right building, Lauren speeds ahead a little to open the door for Camila. The younger girl flashes her a smile as she walks in, “why thank you, mi amor. You’re the definition of chivalry. After me, of course.”

She takes her hand again once they’re back inside the building, and the first thing Lauren sees is the bulletin board with leaflets advertising a club, so she picks one up and flicks through it, her interest increasing when it advertises opportunities for _writing_ and performing the scenes they write, as well as improv and a few named acting games that bring back fond memories from her school club.

“Do you want to join, baby?” Camila asks her, and Lauren’s stomach flutters at the pet name like it’s a reflex. “I think it’d be a good idea, but if you’re not interested…”

“Yeah. I’d like to do it,” Lauren replies, flicking through the leaflet for information on where to sign up, and she’s about to head to the office that’s labelled when a voice behind her makes her jump.

“Oh my god, you’re finally here,” a girl around their age announces, looking from Lauren to the leaflet in her hand, and completely blanking Camila. “We were hoping you’d come! Are you interested in signing up? Obviously it’s a _class,_ more for amateurs than professionals like you, but we were actually wondering how to get in contact with you because we’d be so interested in having you join as an instructor.”

“Oh, um,” Lauren frowns, putting the leaflet down by the rest of them on the shelf they’re kept on. “I- I wasn’t really looking for anything too serious… just… you know, an opportunity to act while I’m here…”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal, I’ll go and let my supervising professor know that you’re going to come in,” the girl continues like she hadn’t heard, “she’ll be so ecstatic that we’ll have a _professional_ to teach-”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip. “I don’t- I don’t really want to _teach_ , just… to participate. Be a part of a group, you know? Even though I’ve worked professionally, I don’t- I still have things I can learn.”

“Don’t be so modest, what are _you_ going to learn from a bunch of students?” The girl asks her, but it’s clearly rhetorical, because she keeps talking so Lauren can’t answer, “It’s alright, come on, we’ll go up to the office and explain that you’re joining as an instructor. It’d have to be next semester since we’ve only got one more meeting this semester-”

“She said she doesn’t want to,” Camila snaps, and Lauren blinks in surprise; she hadn’t expected that. “Respect that and let her join as another student.”

The girl looks Camila up and down with distaste. “I was only trying to be friendly, and obviously she’s going to be on another skill level to everyone else.”

“I- actually, that’s not technically true,” Lauren manages to get out, “I don’t believe it’s actually possible to know everything there is to know about acting…”

“Yeah, _see?_ ” Camila backs her up, and Lauren is so, so grateful for her. “You know what? Fuck your dumbass club. Learn some respect and maybe we’ll come back.”

Then, she grabs Lauren’s hand and practically pulls her out of the building, and when they’re a safe distance away, the younger Latina sends her a goofy grin and asks, “So, that went well, didn’t it?”

Lauren bursts out laughing, and she pulls Camila in for a tight hug. “You’re so amazing. Thank you for standing up for me.”

“Always, mi amor,” Camila flashes her a grin, “anyway, I’ll need to run home to grab my overnight stuff, so…”

“Come to my place with me, then I’ll drive you to yours and we’ll stop by the big Walmart on our way back.” Lauren blurts out, because she doesn’t want Camila going off again when they’d only just met up fifteen minutes ago. “They’re probably likely to have more of the ingredients I need there than at the convenience store anyway.”

“Okay,” Camila agrees, swinging their hands between them as they head in the direction of Lauren’s apartment building as opposed to Camila’s house. “What’s the purpose of this cute little dinner date?”

“Um…” Lauren frowns in thought, because there _wasn’t_ really a purpose. She genuinely just didn’t want to spend the evening alone, and hanging out with her girlfriend is much less pathetic than FaceTiming her mother. “The joy of my company, that’s the purpose.”

“Alright, baby, I’m down,” Camila laughs, “anyway, I think we might need another hour in the studio to get some backing vocals from you, but I know who’s going to sing what, so I think I’m doing pretty well.”

“Proud of you,” Lauren squeezes her hand, but then when she has a bright idea, she blurts out, “oh! I could get it on the show!”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Is that outburst related at _all_ to our conversation?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean the song,” Lauren announces, “even though we mostly use original score, sometimes we use songs in the background of like, driving scenes and stuff. I could call the producers and suggest it. I mean, if you want, and it wouldn’t be until next Spring, but…”

Camila blinks in surprise. “You’d really do that for me?”

“You’re my girlfriend,” Lauren flashes her a small smile, “it’s my job to hype you up. Besides, I absolutely love the song… you’re kind of the most talented musician I’ve ever met.”

Camila looks at her with so much adoration that Lauren feels her heart flutter, and not thinking about it, she leans in to kiss her on the cheek. The younger girl smiles, and mumbles, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Can I kiss you?” Lauren asks her, and when Camila looks uncertain, she adds, “Um… you don’t have to, but we’ve already kissed in public before, and-”

“It’s not that, I’m totally comfortable with you, I just need to talk to you about something, actually,” Camila tells her, “a lot of people think we’re dating. They’re speculating it, like they do with you and Lucy, but since the whole _outing_ thing and you saying that you have a girlfriend… a couple of people I barely know in class have asked me if we’re together. I told them to fuck off, obviously, but… they’re still speculating.”

“Well… let them speculate,” Lauren shrugs, and thinking _fuck it_ , ignoring any worries she has, ignoring how she _knows_ things are complicated because of her fame, she pulls Camila in for a kiss as they walk. “Let them take pictures and post them online. You’re my girlfriend and I’m going to kiss you when I want.”

Camila smiles. “That’s brave of you.”

“I came here _not_ to think about my whole… _fame_ situation. If I live my life worrying about it, then what was the point?” Lauren questions aloud, before she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pulls Camila down on a bench outside the sandwich shop they frequent. She pulls her in close angling her phone just right, and takes a picture, putting it on her Instagram story. “They can think whatever they want about the nature of my relationship with you. I’m not going to tell them _anything_ until we’ve both decided that’s what we want.”

Camila pushes herself up from the bench. “Alright. I just didn’t want anything to freak you out.”

“The only reason the Laucy stuff freaked me out was because I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that I liked girls.” Lauren tells her. “But now I’m comfortable with it, and I’ve accepted it. Even the whole Laucy thing doesn’t _bother_ me anymore. It’s just a little annoying that people don’t seem to get that _we’re not dating_ means _we’re not dating._ ”

“I’m glad you’re at that point, mi amor,” Camila smiles, grabbing Lauren’s hand and pulling her up. “Come on, let’s get to your place.”

Following her down the street, Lauren blurts out, “have you thought about what you want to do after college?”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Not really. Have you?”

“Okay, fair point, no I haven’t, but…” Lauren sighs, “if I _did_ go back to L.A… would you ever like, consider moving there? After college?”

“I’d consider it,” Camila tells her, and Lauren hates the way her heart leaps with hope, “there’s definitely more opportunities there if you want to have a job in a creative field, but it’s also so expensive to live there, so I don’t know if I even _could._ ”

 _I’m asking because I want to live with you,_ Lauren thinks to herself. “Well, by that point, you’ll be a Grammy-winning musician, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry about money.”

Camila grins. “You’re damn right about that. And _you’ll_ have won your fourteenth Emmy by then, so we’ll both be rolling in awards.”

“Damn, _fourteenth_?” Lauren snorts with laughter. “You _do_ have a lot of confidence in me, don’t you?”

“Well, you’re literally the best actress I’ve ever seen, so,” Camila rolls her eyes like it’s obvious, “clearly you’ll have a million Emmys and _Oscars_ by the time you retire. You won’t even know what to do with them. But your _unsentimental_ ass will just sell them on eBay.”

Lauren snorts in amusement, knowing what she’s referencing, and when they reach her apartment building, she pulls Camila into the parking garage and _immediately_ kisses her. “I was only going to sell the jacket because it’s not like I _need_ it! There’s another one in the costume department that actually _fits_ , so might as well make a little profit.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just go get my stuff and your groceries,” Camila laughs, getting into her car once Lauren unlocks it. “I’m excited to get in for the night, because my _favourite_ part of the day is when I don’t have to be outside anymore.”

Lauren gets into the driver’s side and starts the car, and when she takes one look at Camila, she sighs happily. The younger girl smiles back at her, and Lauren is hit with the sudden realisation that she’s never felt this way about anybody before, and she never wants to _stop_ feeling this way.

Camila

“I just- _eBay, Lauren_ ,” Camila shakes her head, finishing off her second plate of Lauren’s homemade _ropa vieja._ “That’s just _sacrilege,_ I can’t believe you would disrespect Vanessa like that.”

“It’s basically my favourite hobby to disrespect my character, so…” Lauren looks at her, amusement shining in her eyes, her plate cleared and left on the coffee table, “I don’t know what you’re expecting.”

Camila laughs, scraping the last little bit of food from her plate before she puts it down next to Lauren’s. “You really don’t like her, huh?”

“No, no, I don’t _not_ like my character, I just don’t get the _hype_ surrounding her,” Lauren shrugs, “like, I can understand why people like Lucy’s character, because she’s obviously a good person, but mine is kind of a jerk. People hate on Keana’s character for hating on _me_ , but nobody does the opposite even though they both hate each other.”

“You’ve got a point, actually.” Camila admits, but she’s still not going to let Lauren disrespect her favourite fictional character, even _though_ she’s the actress who brings her to life, “But I’m also totally biased because Vanessa is my favourite character, so you’re going to _shut_ your mouth.”

Lauren laughs. “Alright, _why_ is she your favourite character? Help me understand the hype.”

 _Because you play her,_ Camila thinks to herself, but she doesn’t _say_ that out loud.

“Well, let’s start with the most _recent_ thing,” Camila says, because if the end of season three and Lauren’s exit from the show doesn’t prove her point, what else will? “The fact that Vanessa basically walked to her almost _death_ just so Emilia could get away. Like, come on! If that doesn’t prove she’s a character worth hyping up, I don’t know what will. And there’s the fact that she goes along with Emilia’s thing about finding the killer themselves because the police suck at it.”

“But so do they, because have _they_ found the killer yet?” Lauren teases her, but Camila knows that the killer reveal won’t happen until the last season. “But alright, I _guess_ you’ve got a point.”

“Exactly,” Camila grins, before realising something else and adding, “and, you know, gay women are pretty loyal fanbases, so… that’s _also_ another reason for the hype. Because she’s gay too, _and_ the fact that you’re really hot doesn’t help. That’s funny though, how you and Lucy have like, opposite sexualities to your characters. Vanessa is gay and you’re bi, and Emilia is bi but Lucy is gay.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve _ever_ realised I like girls if it hadn’t been for the show,” Lauren admits; Camila can’t understand that kind of thing, because liking girls had never been a _question_ for her, and it was _boys_ that she had to figure out whether she liked or not before coming to a resounding _no._ “Because I had absolutely no… no _realisation_ of it. I’d had crushes but I didn’t even realise they were crushes because I genuinely just didn’t know I personally could like girls like that.”

Camila looks a little sympathetic, but instead of expressing that, she asks, “tell me about the crushes. I bet I’m prettier than all of them.”

“Oh, you _are_.” Lauren assures her, and Camila’s stomach flutters which makes her kiss Lauren on impulse. “I definitely had a crush on my best friend Alexa when we were six and I was first getting to know her, but that went away eventually. The main one was this one girl in middle school, but the story is kind of embarrassing.”

Camila snorts with laughter, leaning back against the couch cushions. “That makes it the perfect kind of story to tell.”

“Okay, this is kind of dumb, but I think you’ll laugh. I was in… I think it was seventh grade? But I was hanging out with my friends after school, and while I didn’t realise it at the time and registered it as _really wanting to be her friend_ , I most _definitely_ had a crush on this girl who was there. Her name was Brittany, and she was a year older than me and like, _really_ pretty. And she was one of the coolest girls in school, and I was kind of a dork, so I felt so out of place even hanging out with them, but my friends and I ran into them and joined them.” Lauren tells her, and looking at the almost _intimidatingly_ hot woman in front of her, Camila finds it hard to believe she was ever even remotely _dorky. Then again,_ she thinks to herself, _her personality… definitely dorky._ “But she had a thing for this guy in her class, I don’t remember his name, but he was there that night too. Obviously we were like twelve, but this guy was climbing trees and Brittany was basically _swooning_ over him. So my _dumb_ ass is like _hey, Brittany will pay attention to me if I do that, too_!”

“You didn’t,” Camila snorts in amusement. “I have a strong feeling that this isn’t going to end well.”

“It’s not, trust me,” Lauren replies, laughing at her own stupidity, “So I see this big ass tree, bigger than the one the dumb boy was climbing, and Alexa is looking at me like _oh my god my best friend is a fucking idiot_ , but I’m like, totally sure I’ll be fine, because how hard can climbing a tree be, right? Not that hard, actually; I climbed the thing pretty easily, but then I realised that getting back _down_ would be the _real_ problem. I ended up _stuck_ in the tree for three hours, laughed at by the girl I had a crush on, and to make matters _worse_ , Alexa called my dad and he came to rescue me while everyone was there, but then realised that he couldn’t get me down. So my dad called the _fire department_ to come get me down. Naturally everyone knew the story at school the next day and everyone kept making _tree_ jokes when I walked past.”

Camila laughs at the story, and Lauren blushes when she says, “no, that’s cute! _I_ would’ve been impressed if a pretty girl climbed a tree for me.”

“Mhm, and _that_ is why _you’re_ my girlfriend and not _Brittany’s_ fake ass,” Lauren jokes, “I wonder what she’s doing now. To be honest, I sometimes think about that kind of thing. Like, what people from school are doing nowadays, because I only see three people I went to high school with now, Alexa, Erica and Luis, and I don’t even see _them_ that often.”

Camila laughs; she’d had _one_ friend in high school, and they’d stopped talking a few months into her first year at college, “Any time I remember someone exists, I just Facebook stalk them for a few minutes and then I know everything, because the people from my high school post on Facebook so much that I’m like _damn, get a diary._ ”

“Smart move, but I literally haven’t logged into Facebook since junior year of high school. Ever since my mom got Instagram she’s content with me just liking her posts on there instead of forcing me to log on whenever she posts something and wants me to like it.” Lauren snorts in amusement. “I don’t know why she needs me to like it, because the fans follow her and like all of her posts, so…”

Camila frowns, remembering something Lauren had said in an interview; her family were religious, and religion and having a child in the LGBT community generally don’t go well together, but Camila knows she’s still close with them. At first, she figures it’s best not to ask, but then she just blurts out, “how’d you come out to your family?” When Lauren is surprised by the question, she quickly murmurs a _sorry_ , and adds, “It’s just, you’ve mentioned they’re kind of religious. I mean, they sent you to a _Catholic_ school, so…”

“Oh, well… I told them between filming seasons two and three. They were wondering why I’d been kind of spiralling, and it was part of the reason. They didn’t have a _bad_ reaction, but it also wasn’t like… good?” Lauren says it questioningly; she loves her family, and they’re so supportive, but having their daughter come out to them in the middle of a rant about how much she _hates_ her life probably wasn’t something they’d prepared for. “My dad was just sort of like _oh, okay_ , and my mom didn’t comment on it, but when I mentioned that I wanted to start coming out to more people, my mom told me I should keep it to myself. She regrets it now, obviously. She just didn’t- she wasn’t educated about it at the time.”

Camila hums; she never really _had_ to come out, since it was pretty much common knowledge from her _birth_ that she liked girls. “I’m sorry it wasn’t the best coming out experience. I never really had one, so…”

“Like you said, you came out of the womb waving a rainbow flag,” Lauren laughs, “I don’t know, I kind of hate the whole coming out thing. It’s just _awkward_ to have to tell people who I want to date. The first person I came out to was Lucy, and that was at Comic-Con in 2015, and it was more of an ‘I _think_ I’m bisexual’ thing than a ‘I’m _sure_ I’m bisexual’ thing.”

“Well, I’m kind of glad that you figured out you liked girls,” Camila grins, “being a girl who is _totally_ into you.”

“Even if I hadn’t, I think meeting you would’ve knocked some sense into me,” Lauren laughs, “because I was crushing on you from the moment I met you.”

“Honestly, if we figure out how to build a time machine, we have to zap back in time to _me_ like the week before I met you, and _you_ when you thought you were straight, and tell them we’re together.” Camila laughs, and lets out a chuckle at the mental image of her reaction. “I think that’d involve a lot of screaming.”

“Definitely,” Lauren snorts, and when she takes her hand, Camila squeezes it gently and traces her thumb across Lauren’s knuckles. The older girl looks down at their hands, and then back up to her, and she suddenly looks so anxious that Camila doesn’t really know what’s coming next. “I- uh… do you want to go to my bedroom?”

Camila frowns, because _why would they go to bed, it’s only eight o’clock, and_ \- oh. It takes a few moments to click in her head, and Camila raises her eyebrows in surprise. “I- uh-”

“Never mind,” Lauren blurts out, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, “It was a stupid idea-”

“No, not stupid at _all_ , trust me,” Camila kisses her forehead to reassure her, “just took me off guard for a second, baby. I’d love to.”

“Oh,” Lauren looks up in surprise, and Camila can tell that she’s still so nervous, and she’s not even trying to act like she’s _not_. “Really?”

“Really,” Camila squeezes her hand, standing up and pulling Lauren with her. When the older girl doesn’t move, she takes the lead, putting her hands on Lauren’s waist and pulling her in for a kiss. “Now, baby, lead the way.”

“I- okay,” Lauren takes her hand and leads her towards her bedroom door, pushing it open and nervously walking Camila inside. The younger girl just smiles comfortingly, a mixture of happy, nervous and excited that this is happening. “Can I- um, can I kiss you?”

“Of course,” Camila smiles, pulling Lauren in for a kiss, holding her close by the waist. She pushes her up against her bedroom door, like she’d done today in the studio, and kisses down her neck, leaving more of her marks there, the way Lauren whimpers at the touch of her lips driving her completely crazy.

When she pulls away, she plays with the hem of Lauren’s shirt and asks, “can I take this off, baby?”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, nodding nervously. “You can- you can do whatever you want.”

She pulls Lauren’s shirt up over her head, tossing it aside, and pushes Lauren back onto her bed, kissing her collarbone, her breasts, her tummy, trying to show every _inch_ of this beautiful woman her appreciation and adoration.

“ _You_ ,” Camila punctuates with a kiss, “are the most beautiful,” _kiss_ “woman,” _kiss_ “I’ve ever seen,” _kiss_.

When she looks up at Lauren, smiling softly, she still looks really nervous, and Camila straddles her waist, leaning down to kiss her. “Talk to me, baby.”

“I just- this isn’t too soon, is it?” Lauren asks her, and Camila sits up, still straddling her, tracing patterns across the exposed skin of her tummy. She’s so _flawless_ , and Camila can’t imagine her being anything _but_. “It’s only been like, a month and a half…”

“If you want to wait, we can wait,” Camila assures her, “I would wait forever for you, Lauren.”

Somehow, the words seem to comfort her. “You don’t feel pressured?”

Camila is surprised by the words. _Lauren thinks she’s pressuring me?_ “No, I’m totally comfortable. I wanted to make sure _you_ feel comfortable too.”

“Okay,” Lauren nods, biting down on her bottom lip. Finally, her green eyes seem free of any worries, and she looks so content that Camila’s whole heart soars. She sends her a shy smile, looking up at her with so much wonder that Camila just wants to kiss her again. “I’m comfortable. You- I’ve never felt safer around anyone.”

“That means so much to me, mi amor,” Camila murmurs, finally giving in to her urge and leaning down to kiss her again. “You make me feel safe too.”

That night, when Camila is falling asleep with Lauren in her arms, she finds herself running her fingers across her beautiful body, drinking in every inch of the flawless ivory skin, and feeling so grateful that they both have a safe place in each other.


	21. Chapter 21

Lauren

“What do you want for Christmas?”

Camila crinkles her nose in confusion, “are you running lines for your next role as a hot female Santa Claus in some cheesy gay Christmas movie?”

“I- no, I’m just asking what you want for Christmas, you weirdo,” Lauren snorts with laughter, “but I like that you assume any movie I’d be in would automatically be gay.”

“You should make that your brand. The lesbians that stan you would appreciate it,” Camila shrugs, before she sends her a sheepish grin and adds, “I’d know.”

Lauren snorts, flopping down on her bed where Camila is laid, resting her head in her lap. When Camila plays with her hair, she sighs happily. “You know what, I’ll think about it. But seriously. What do you want for Christmas?”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Are you asking me because you haven’t bought anything for me yet and you’re totally stumped or because you’ve already got something but now you’re all worried that it’s not going to be something good?”

“No, no, I’ve got you something,” Lauren assures her; she was a _little_ confused when she was buying it, but she hopes it’s all good. “I mean like, from your parents.”

“Oh, well…” Camila hums in thought, “I need a new laptop, so I asked them for that. Nothing too flashy, just as long as I don’t have to charge it every fucking _ten minutes_. What about you?”

“I don’t really _want_ anything.” Lauren admits; she’s always preferred _giving_ presents to receiving them. “I’m grateful for any gifts I’m given, but I honestly prefer giving to others than getting presents myself.”

Camila’s fingers weave through her hair, and she murmurs, “you’re so precious. You really don’t want anything?”

“Nothing in particular,” Lauren shrugs, “I just want to spend time with my family and eat my body weight in food.”

Camila snorts with laughter. “Alright, baby, that last part is relatable.”

“Can we watch Christmas movies? I’m in a festive mood,” Lauren replies, before she considers this and continues, “actually, I think I’m just in a _good_ mood. I don’t think I’ve _ever_ flown home and _not_ been accosted by fans at the airport. It was nice.”

“We can most definitely watch Christmas movies,” Camila assures her, and Lauren shuffles up on the bed, snuggling up to her properly. When Camila kisses the top of her head, she adds, “which do you suggest?”

“Um… every year when I was younger I’d always watch _Scrooge_ with my mom after putting up the Christmas tree. Like, the musical.” Lauren thinks back; she’d always been so excited whenever it hit December 1st, and she’d always forced her parents to put the tree up as early as possible, because if the _tree_ was up, it meant that Santa was coming, and in Lauren’s little five year old head there was nothing better. “Can we watch that?”

“I’ve actually never seen it, so I’m down,” Camila says, and Lauren holds back her offended gasp, but Camila seems to read her well enough, “are you _actually_ offended right now? Okay, because of that, I’m making you watch the _Silverhollow_ Christmas episode you guys did in season two.”

“ _Two_ people died in that episode, that’s not very _festive._ ” Lauren scrunches her nose up in irritation. “I want to feel _happy_ , not watch people get stabbed by a masked serial killer.”

“You said you’d watch an episode with me, remember?” Camila reminds her, and Lauren pouts, because it’s _Christmas_ time, not _Silverhollow_ time. “But we’ll watch _Scrooge_.”

“Good,” Lauren grins, sitting up and brushing through her hair with her fingers. She doesn’t know why, but it always seems to go a little static after being on a plane, but she can’t be bothered to wash it tonight. She just wants to snuggle with her girlfriend. “Actually, I think I’m going to get in my pyjamas. Are you staying over tonight?”

“I think my mom wants me home, even though the gap between Thanksgiving break and Christmas break is fucking tiny compared to summer through to Thanksgiving.” Camila rolls her eyes. “I wish I could stay, but…”

“No, no, I won’t take you away from your family,” Lauren assures her, pushing herself off the bed to get changed into some comfortable PJs; she doesn’t plan on leaving the house for the rest of the night.

As an actor, Lauren has always been comfortable with her body and stripping in front of people, so when she pulls off her shirt and digs through her drawer for her pyjamas, she doesn’t think anything of it; she’s been _virtually_ naked in front of the whole crew of _Silverhollow_ when filming the season two sex scene, minus the nude coloured panties she’d worn. The only time she’s ever conscious about it is during _intimate_ moments, and just changing into her pyjamas doesn’t feel like one; she changes in front of makeup artists and other actors on set all the time. She doesn’t even _think_ about how Camila may react, and when she stands up and goes to put on her pyjama shirt, she meets her girlfriend’s shocked gaze and blinks in confusion. “What?”

“I- I just wasn’t- um, _expecting_ …the sudden…” Camila blinks, and almost like she realises she’s staring, she quickly looks away, “sorry, I’m totally staring, but…”

“ _Oh,_ right,” it finally clicks that she should’ve at least given some type of warning, and once she pulls her t-shirt on and changes from her jeans to a pair of pyjama shorts, she sits back down on the bed and takes an embarrassed Camila’s hand. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I guess I just don’t really think about… you know, being naked or whatever. When you’ve pretty much been naked in front of a whole film crew, it doesn’t faze you when it’s one person. Especially when that one person happens to be your girlfriend, who has already seen you naked anyway.”

Camila blushes, and she still won’t meet her gaze. “I just didn’t expect you to… do that. I- you’re really… and I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a total fuckboy, but you’re just… _oh my god_. You know?”

“Not really,” Lauren laughs, trying to figure out what _oh my god_ could mean, “in a good way or an ‘ _oh my god you’re hideous’_ kind of way?”

“Obviously an amazing way,” Camila finally meets her gaze, her cheeks still flushed pink. “You’re just- you know, you’re curvy and it’s hot as hell and those damn _tattoos_ … I didn’t even know you had a back tattoo.”

“Oh, yeah, I got it literally just before I moved down to college,” Lauren shrugs, “so… I didn’t make you uncomfortable...?”

“No, no,” Camila finally seems composed, and she wraps her arms around Lauren’s waist, pulling her in for another quick kiss, “Just surprised me. And- you know, not to sound like a _total_ distracted idiot, but how do they cover them up on the show? I know you’ve had a couple of tattoos since you were eighteen…”

“Makeup,” Lauren shrugs, before she brushes her hair back and flips it over to expose the dragonfly on the back of her neck, “they never have to bother with this one, since I always have my hair down on the show, but the ones on my arms get covered up pretty easily. There was actually this joke on set between the makeup artists that every time I got a new tattoo I should have to put a dollar in a jar.”

“Then you can _steal_ the jar and you can use it to get another tattoo!” Camila jokes, and Lauren snorts in amusement, resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Seriously though. I find your tattoos so attractive.”

Almost as if she’s emphasising that, Camila brushes her hair aside and kisses the nape of her neck, right where Lauren’s dragonfly is. She shivers under the touch of the other girl’s lips, and she blushes embarrassedly. “ _Camz_ …”

“Anyway,” Camila grins, clearly knowing the effect she has on her, “I’m going to steal one of your t-shirts and some sweats, and unlike _someone_ , I’m going to give you a verbal warning before I flash my tits at you.”

Lauren cringes. “Don’t say _tits_ , that _really_ makes you sound like a fuckboy.”

“Maybe I am one,” Camila teases her, opening up the t-shirt drawer when Lauren directs her to it. As she rummages around, she flashes her a teasing grin, “maybe I’ve just tricked you into thinking I’m this hopeless romantic.”

“Babe, I think we _both_ know that _I’m_ the actor here,” Lauren teases her, and when Camila jumps back onto the bed to pull her in for another kiss, she adds, “ _and_ you can’t resist me.”

Camila smiles, kissing her forehead. “You’re right, but don’t tell anyone that. Now let me steal a shirt from my girlfriend! Damn.”

“Alright, alright, steal away,” Lauren laughs, grabbing her laptop and searching up an illegal version of _Scrooge_ online as Camila rummages through her t-shirts to find one she likes. “Hey, so, where are we at with this whole public thing? I know I kissed you on campus, but we seem to have gotten away with that one.”

Camila looks up, holding an old _Paramore_ t-shirt up against her, almost like she’s trying to see how it looks. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m comfortable with.”

“Well, I mean…” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, and distracts herself with pressing _play_ on the website she’s found, just to check if the copy is good quality. “I don’t want to… to draw unnecessary attention to you. Because the whole _public figure_ thing kind of sucks, and I don’t want you to have to deal with it until you’ve won your first Grammy. But I _also_ don’t want to keep you a secret. Because you’re literally the best thing in my life and I want to be able to show you off.”

“I could buy a wig like _Hannah Montana_ ,” Camila laughs to herself, “I could be Alexis Texas.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “I obviously don’t mean like _that._ Like… there’s a difference between privacy and secrecy, and I obviously don’t want you to be a _secret_. But then I don’t want to be like _hey guys, this is my girlfriend,_ because I know what the fans are like and I don’t want you to have to deal with that prematurely _.”_

“Here’s an idea,” Camila seemingly settles on the _Paramore_ shirt, because she shuts the t-shirt drawer and pulls the shirt on; unlike Lauren, she’d clearly opted to wear a bra today. “We do everything like we would. Hold hands on campus, kiss whenever we want, but we just don’t acknowledge it. You know what I mean?”

“Not really,” Lauren laughs, “you mean I could post a long and obviously romantic birthday post for you or something, and just completely ignore exactly how romantic it is when people point it out?”

“Yeah! Like, let people think what they want to think. We keep it to ourselves but it’s also not a secret if we’re walking around holding hands all the time,” Camila shrugs, “just don’t acknowledge whatever the fans think is going on. Act like you don’t _have_ fans, like you’re not a public figure, because you’re _not_ to me.”

“Alright,” Lauren nods, “so I can post about our cute little Christmas movie date?”

“Of course,” Camila grins, sitting back down next to her and pulling her in for a quick kiss, “you can post about whatever you want, mi amor.”

Lauren smiles, and once she’s taken a quick selfie with Camila to post on her Instagram story, she asks, “do the fans think there’s anything going on? Like, on the same level as the Laucy stuff? I haven’t really been on Twitter since I came out and that was over a month ago.”

“Yeah, they do,” Camila laughs, “don’t you remember me asking you what to say to an old mutual of mine? And you were just like _I have to put my phone on airplane mode, say whatever you want_. Unhelpful bitch.”

“Hey! Don’t call me a bitch,” Lauren pouts, and Camila’s expression immediately softens. “Why were you even _on_ your old fan account anyway? _Oh_ , can I see the Instagram?”

“No,” Camila rolls her eyes, “I am _not_ letting you see that.”

Lauren pouts, snuggling up to Camila and trying her best to look _cute._ The puppy dog eyes are usually one of her methods to get what she wants. “Why not?”

“Because it’s _embarrassing_ ,” Camila draws out the last word, “it’s bad enough that you’ve seen the _Twitter._ But Instagram was generally where I was just… crushing on you.”

Lauren wiggles her eyebrows. “Crushing on me?”

Camila lets out an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, _no_ I’m not going to show you the Instagram, shut your pretty little mouth.”

Lauren sighs dramatically. “How are we supposed to have a relationship if you won’t _trust_ me?”

“Alright, shut up, you’re so extra,” Camila rolls her eyes, obviously not fooled. “I’m not showing it to you. Because it’s really… I just- I think you’re really attractive, alright? And on the Instagram which I never thought there’d be any chance you’d _ever_ see, I wasn’t afraid to show it.”

Lauren laughs. “Aw, you’re embarrassed that you think I’m cute?”

“No, no, of course not,” Camila scoffs, but it’s rather obvious that that’s the case, “clearly I just don’t want to inflate your already _massive_ ego. You know how you actors are.”

“Hey!” Lauren gives her a playful shove, “Shut up, my ego is a _perfectly normal size_ , thank you very much.”

“That’s what someone with a huge ego would say.” Camila teases her. “Ooh, have you ever _met_ anyone who’s like that? Like, actors or musicians.”

“Not really, but I’ve only ever been super involved with people on _Silverhollow_ , and everyone in the cast and crew are all lovely people,” Lauren replies; she’s met a couple of actors at award shows who seemed totally conceited, as well as _worked_ with one on a Netflix movie, but she doesn’t want to name names, because she could’ve just met them on a bad day. Not the guy she worked with, he was just an asshole, but everyone else. “Anyway, are we going to watch this movie so I can feel like it’s Christmas?”

“Okay, okay,” Camila laughs, pulling her close. Lauren gets herself comfortable, snuggling into her, and Camila murmurs, “I love it when you cuddle me like this. I always knew you were a little puppy.”

“Shut up,” Lauren replies, but it’s a half-hearted response, because she kind of _is_ and they both know it. “Can’t help it if I love being close to my girlfriend. And I _will_ find your fan Instagram. Count on it.”

Camila snorts. “What’re you going to do? Message every single fan account asking if it’s me? Good luck.”

As Lauren presses the spacebar to play the movie, she kisses Camila’s cheek. “No, you’re right, I probably wouldn’t find it, and I won’t go looking for it if you don’t want me to. I respect your boundaries.”

“You are the sweetest person in the whole world.” Camila comments, and her fingers find their way into Lauren’s hair again, “To be honest, it was mostly just me reposting whatever you’d posted on Instagram with just a weird rambly caption about how hot I thought you were. _Are._ ”

Camila corrects her tense before Lauren can do it for her, so the older girl just laughs and says, “maybe I’ll create a fan account for you and do the same shit. It’s my job to hype you up, right? I really have to step up my game.”

Camila just laughs in reply, kissing the top of her head as the _agonisingly long_ opening credits finally come to a finish, “Alright, baby, you do what you want. Now let’s watch this apparently oh-so-important movie.”

Lauren stays quiet, snuggling up with her girlfriend, already excited for the holiday season. She’s always hated being alone around the holidays, but Christmas especially; she feels like that’s a holiday season that you’re _supposed_ to spend with the people you care about, and she cares about Camila a lot. She feels more for her than she’s ever felt for anyone else, and even though she doesn’t have the guts to vocalise it yet, she’s pretty sure she’s falling in love.

Camila

“Merry Christmas.”

Camila laughs when she takes one look at her girlfriend. She’s wearing a Santa hat, an _obnoxiously_ bright red and green Christmas sweater, and of course her signature ripped black skinny jeans. “Festive, much?”

“What? It’s still,” she pauses to check the time on her phone, “six thirty three p.m. Just because _most_ of Christmas Day is over, it doesn’t mean it’s not still festive time.”

Camila laughs, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside. “Alright, come on, Mrs Claus.”

“Actually,” Lauren pulls out of her grip and smiles elusively, “I need you to wait in the lounge. Your present is in my car and I need to sneak it inside.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “And I’m not allowed to see it?”

“Well, see, it wasn’t something I thought I could _wrap_ ,” Lauren admits, and Camila wonders what the hell that could be. “So I’m going to need you to go into the lounge, and I’m going to grab your present, sneak it upstairs, and give it to you that way.”

“You _do_ realise how that sounds, right?” Camila laughs. “Am I going to wander upstairs to find you lying naked on my bed surrounded by rose petals? Because _that_ would be a Christmas gift to remember.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “ _No_ , not that, you big creeper. No, it’s a real, tangible thing.”

“Oh, so you’re non-corporeal now?” Camila teases her, and when Lauren just looks all the more frustrated with her, she laughs. “Sorry, it’s so funny to wind you up. I’ll wait in the lounge like you want.”

“ _Thank_ you, was that so hard?” Lauren pushes her towards the lounge anyway, and Camila reluctantly heads through the door and sits on the couch. She hears Lauren going back outside, and she’s so tempted to look out of the window to see whatever it is, but she doesn’t, letting her girlfriend go and put whatever it is in her bedroom.

She waits until Lauren calls her to move. “Okay, you can come out now!”

“All of your fans at you,” Camila jokes when she rejoins Lauren in the hallway, and the older girl snorts in amusement. “So, can I go and get my mysterious present now?”

“Yes, come on,” Lauren takes her hand, and pulls her towards her bedroom, “also, I brought a bottle of red wine with me, and we’re going to share that out have a cute, festive end to Christmas.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Camila agrees, and when Lauren stops her outside her bedroom door, looking a little nervous, she asks, “should I be nervous too? Because you’re looking like you’ve put a live tiger in my bedroom or something.”

Lauren laughs, but it’s a lot more anxious than she expects, “I just- I want to preface this by saying I had _no_ idea what I was doing when I went to buy it, and I might’ve gotten the wrong thing, but it’s okay because I still have all the receipts and stuff so you can exchange it if you want.”

Camila takes in the rambled response and sends her a soft smile. “Baby, I’ll love whatever you’ve bought me, because it’s from you.”

“Okay. Alright, well,” Lauren pushes open Camila’s bedroom door and gestures towards the inside, “merry Christmas, Camz.”

She looks inside, and nothing seems out of the ordinary, until she glances over at her bed. Leant against the foot of it is a white Les Paul guitar, and when she gets closer to it and sees the logo on the head, she blinks at it in a shocked stupor. “I- you didn’t.”

“You mentioned one time in passing, you know, that your dream guitar was similar to the one I used to play on the show, only it was a Gibson, and I just…” Lauren trails off, shrugging lightly, but she still looks so anxious that under any normal circumstance, Camila would pull her in for a hug, but she’s too shocked to do anything but _stare_ at her _dream guitar._ “I didn’t really know what I was doing, since I don’t know anything about guitars, I just sort of asked if they had a white Gibson Les Paul, but they had like… _three_. And this one was the prettiest, at least in my opinion, because it’s got a little bit of gold on it too, and I thought you’d like it, but if you don’t then-”

Something about the way her girlfriend seems so uncertain makes Camila snap out of whatever shocked trance she’s in, and she shuts her up with a kiss. “It’s perfect. _You’re_ perfect.”

“Okay,” Lauren mumbles, burying her face into Camila’s neck and wrapping her arms tightly around the younger girl. “I’m glad you like it. Just- promise me something?”

Camila meets her gaze when Lauren pulls out of the hug and sends her a soft smile. “Promise you what?”

Lauren smiles. “That you’ll use it to open the Grammys one day.”

When she holds up her pinky, Camila wraps hers around it and murmurs, “promise.”

Lauren sends her that adorably goofy grin, the one Camila loves seeing; it’s her _real_ smile, not the one she uses for the cameras, and Camila is so grateful that she gets to see it. “Alright, well, I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to run out to the car to get the bottle of wine I brought-”

Camila frowns, and blurts out, “Wait, but your car is still at college?”

“Oh, yeah, my _real_ car,” Lauren emphasises, “borrowed my mom’s to drive here because I didn’t want to risk walking for like almost an hour with a guitar. I definitely would’ve dropped it and it’d get all fucked up, and we can’t have _that_ happening. So I’ll run out and grab the wine, and-”

“Not yet,” Camila stops her by grabbing her hand, “I still need to give you _your_ present. Well, plural.”

“Plural?” Lauren’s expression dips into a frown, and she looks so adorably confused that it makes Camila’s heart flutter. “You didn’t even need to get me _one_ gift, let alone two.”

“Of course I needed to get you a gift, even if you _are_ one of those ‘ _I prefer giving to receiving’_ people. Interesting how you’re like that with _presents,_ but in bed you’re the opposite,” Camila laughs at Lauren’s affronted scoff, but opens up her closet doors and grabs the presents, “okay, so first, the bigger one.”

She puts it down on her bed, beckoning Lauren over, and the older girl sits down, digging her finger under the gaps in the messy wrapping. She doesn’t _comment_ on the quality of Camila’s wrapping, thankfully, and she unwraps it quickly, pausing in surprise. “ _A Song of Ice and Fire.”_

“I know it’s one of your favourite book series, and I saw this special edition hardcover set online, so…” Camila motions as if to say _ta da_. “I got them for you. Merry Christmas.”

Lauren pulls her in for a tight hug, nuzzling her face into Camila’s neck, and the younger girl tangles her fingers into Lauren’s hair, playing with it. “Thank you, Camz. It’s cute that you even _remembered that_.”

“I remember lots of things about you. I think you’ll find I’m quite invested,” Camila laughs, and when Lauren pulls away, she grins and adds, “you know, being your number one fan and all.”

“You’ll have to fight my mom for that title, I think,” Lauren remarks, and then laughs like she’s imagining a battle between Camila and Clara. “She loves to tell everyone that she’s such a big fan she literally carried me in her womb for nine months. And _then_ she flashes the baby pictures, which is always fun.”

Camila laughs. “You were a cute baby. You still _are_ a cute baby. Anyway, the _second_ present.”

She recognises the name on the box, and immediately, Lauren frowns. “Pandora? Babe, the books were enough-”

“Alright, Miss _Here’s A $2000 guitar_ ,” Camila rolls her eyes, “baby, it’s Christmas and I wanted to do something nice for you. Besides, I have money saved up from working over summer _and_ this break, so it’s really not a big deal.”

Lauren still looks uncertain. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Camila replies, “go on, open it.”

After a few moments of hesitation, Lauren opens the little box and looks at the bracelet inside. Again, she still looks a little unsure, but she takes it out and glances at the charms. “ _The Lion King_?”

“I know you like it, and they had this thing where you could get a bracelet and two _The Lion King_ charms. And then I _also_ got a _Lilo and Stitch_ charm, because that’s my favourite Disney movie, so… that one represents me,” Camila trails off, shrugging, “do you like it?”

“I love it,” Lauren meets her gaze, and she looks at her so softly that Camila thinks she might cry. “I- you’re literally the best person in the world.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Camila laughs, carefully prying the bracelet from Lauren’s hands and putting it on her wrist. As she puts it on, she leans in and kisses her girlfriend’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Yeah,” Lauren echoes, still a little stunned, “merry Christmas.”

“So,” Camila prefaces once she’s got the bracelet on Lauren’s wrist, relieved that it fit perfectly, “the wine?”

“Oh, yeah!” Lauren stands up, grabbing Camila’s hand and pulling her out of the room, “I need you to come with me, because I did a thing.”

Camila raises her eyebrows questioningly. “A thing?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hums in reply, practically dragging her through to the front door and onto the doorstep. When she stops abruptly, Camila frowns, and Lauren smiles sheepishly pointing towards the door frame. “Mistletoe. Call me cheesy, but…”

Camila laughs. “Well, I guess that means I have no choice but to kiss you. Damn, I’m totally so bummed out about that.”

Lauren smiles fondly, even at the sarcasm, “just come here and kiss me.”

Pulling Lauren closer by the waist, Camila kisses her, aware of how ridiculously cliché and cheesy it is to kiss her under the mistletoe, but she _likes_ cheesy and cliché when it’s with Lauren. The older girl cups her jaw, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss, but Camila doesn’t let her have that control for long, pushing her against the closed front door and almost knocking the wreath onto the floor. Lauren laughs when it falls and it’s pretty much just balancing on her head, and Camila pulls away, hanging it back up, snorting with laughter.

“Thanks for the interruption,” she chastises the wreath, tapping it lightly as if it’s going to suddenly develop a consciousness and apologise for its obvious wrongdoing. Lauren ducks out from between her and the door, jumping into a car Camila doesn’t recognise and producing a bottle of wine. “We’re getting drunk?”

“Off half a bottle of wine?” Lauren raises her eyebrows, then considers her words and announces, “Actually, I’m kind of a lightweight, so… maybe I _will_ end up a little tipsy.”

“Whatever, it’s cute,” Camila laughs, “I’m a lightweight too, so looks like we’re a perfect match.”

“We were obviously a perfect match _anyway_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, pulling her in for another quick kiss before she opens the front door again. “Come on. Let’s get this shared out.”

Camila follows her inside, and asks her mom to grab a couple of wine glasses when they walk into the kitchen; Sinu agrees, as long as she gets a glass, which Lauren graciously tells her she’d brought it for _everyone_ to share, not just for herself and Camila, which is a _total_ lie, but Sinu buys it.

As they head into the lounge, the moment they’re out of earshot, Camila shoves Lauren lightly. “You’re a suck up, you know that?”

“Hey, I can’t help it, I _love_ being besties with my friends’ parents,” Lauren shrugs, and before Camila can make a _friendzone_ joke, she adds, “and since you’re my _girlfriend_ , it’s like that need is amplified by ten thousand.”

Camila chuckles, passing her a glass of wine. “Still makes you a suck up.”

“Oh, whatever, loser,” Lauren sticks her tongue out at her childishly, taking a sip of her drink, “anyway, will you play something for me on your new guitar?”

Camila flashes her another smile, but it’s more of an embarrassed grin than anything else. “Just- promise you won’t laugh.”

“Camz, I already know you’re ridiculously talented,” Lauren points out, playing with her hand, “but you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable-”

“I’ll play for you,” Camila interrupts, smiling properly, more _comfortably_ this time. “If I’m being honest, I actually learned _The Only Exception_ with the intention to play that for you. Because I know you love Paramore.”

“You’re the cutest,” Lauren smiles, and when they head towards Camila’s bedroom, she sends her a soft smile. “Oh! Have you got your grade back for that song we did?”

“Not yet, probably won’t get it until January,” Camila shrugs, letting Lauren lead her towards her bedroom, “But I’m not too worried about it. We killed it.”

“Yeah,” Lauren sends her a proud grin. “We did.”

As they walk into Camila’s room, Lauren puts her wine on Camila’s bedside table and practically dives onto her bed, looking up at her with total adoration shining in her eyes. Once again, it hits Camila how crazy this whole situation is; if you’d have told Camila _six months_ ago that by Christmas she’d be in a relationship with Lauren Jauregui, she would’ve laughed in your face and gone back to rereading her favourite Vanmilia fanfiction.

But now she’s here, with Lauren Jauregui on her bed, asking her to sing for her. She hasn’t been properly invested in _Silverhollow_ for months, and she doesn’t even think she ships Vanmilia anymore; especially after finding herself super jealous while watching the show. She doesn’t even see Lauren the way she used to; half the time, she forgets about the show, forgets that Lauren is _famous_ , because she’s just… her girlfriend. Her beautiful, amazing girlfriend.

“Come _on_ ,” Lauren practically whines from the bed, “sing for me! I want to see if you like your guitar.”

“I already know I like it,” Camila rolls her eyes, grabbing the guitar and strumming it, quickly tuning it by ear, “alright. _Paramore_ or an original?”

“Both,” Lauren smiles, leaning against her pillows, “blow me away, babe.”

As she strums the opening chords to _The Only Exception_ , Camila meets her gaze, and any kind of anxiety she’d felt over singing in front of Lauren seems to melt away into nothingness, and she knows she’s falling entirely, irreversibly in love.


	22. Chapter 22

Lauren

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever spent New Year’s _not_ at a party.” She comments as she opens the door to let Camila in. She looks her girlfriend over, and even though she’s just in a casual plaid shirt and skinny jeans, she announces, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Camila flashes her a smile. “Thank you, mi amor. I love your dress.”

She’s just wearing a cute floral summer dress, nothing flashy at all, but she appreciates the compliment nonetheless. She smooths it out as she shuts the door, and pulls her in for a kiss. “I missed you.”

Camila laughs. “You saw me two days ago.”

“Mhm, and I missed you,” Lauren repeats, waiting for Camila to take her shoes off. “You better have missed me too.”

“Of course,” Camila assures her, and once she’s kicked her shoes off, she takes Lauren’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Then she sends her a teasing smile and announces, “Obviously I’d be missing you a lot _more_ if you _weren’t_ my girlfriend right now and I was still just a fan. Pretty sure they’re having withdrawals since you’re _never_ on social media anymore.”

Lauren laughs. “Well, we can post some dumb stuff later. When we’re both a little drunk.”

“If you want to go out to a party, we can,” Camila offers, “I don’t mind. Whatever you want to do.”

Lauren shakes her head, pulling Camila into the lounge; she’d invited her over half because her parents and siblings are out at a family party, so they’d get some privacy, and half because she _wants_ to see the new year in with just the two of them. Her mother had desperately tried to object. Her excuse was that Lauren was almost _never_ in Miami for New Year’s Eve; she comes home for Christmas every year, and flies back to L.A, usually to party with her friends on New Year’s Eve. The last time she’d spent it with her family was the last year she’d had complete anonymity; NYE 2013.

She’d felt a _little_ bad, but _also_ didn’t want to kiss Camila at midnight in front of her _entire_ family, and she’d also spent literally every day since she got back with her family, so she was in need of a small break.

“I’m good with not partying. It’s actually kind of nice to have a cute night in with my girl,” Lauren plays with Camila’s hand, before she flops down on the couch, tugging her girlfriend with her, “plus, I know you’re not the biggest fan of parties and I really don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Also, you know, I don’t really _know_ anyone in Miami anymore, except for Alexa, so if you’re wanting a party it’ll have to be the obviously super insane family party that’s happening right now.”

Camila snorts with laughter. “The Jauregui clan parties hard, huh?”

“Oh, definitely, my grandparents are literal party animals,” Lauren jokes, before she snuggles up to her girlfriend on the couch. “Anyway, we have to kiss at midnight, but other than that, we don’t have _any_ plans. What do you want to do?”

“Well, I have a bottle of vodka in my backpack that I’d like to open, but other than that, I’m fine,” Camila replies, before she realises something and announces, “ _oh!_ And I want to get into pyjamas ASAP. We’re not going anywhere else tonight, are we?”

“Nope. I mean, we’ll be ordering takeout, but we can answer the door in pyjamas. The delivery guy will have _probably_ seen worse than two girls in PJs.” Lauren laughs, before considering it and announcing, “in fact, that’s probably just their normal weekend.”

“Alright, come here, let’s take a couple of cute pictures before we get dressed down,” Camila pulls her phone out and opens the front camera, and Lauren snuggles as close to her as she can, smiling for _Camila_ , not for the camera. When the younger girl shows her the pictures, she smiles even _more_ , realising that she probably looks ridiculously in love. “Can I post these?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiles, “I’ll post the drunk pictures on my story later.”

“I can’t wait for all of the fans to speculate about our relationship status,” Camila snorts in amusement, “it’ll be funny to watch them all freak out.”

“I like this whole idea. You know, to treat you like my girlfriend and just _not_ say anything about it,” Lauren thinks out loud, “it just… it kind of gives me that freedom, in a way. If I just pretend I don’t notice the fans, and ignore all the questions about the nature of our relationship.”

Camila smiles. “It’s a happy medium between an intensely public relationship and a _secret_ relationship. Plus, you know, it makes you smile. And I love that beautiful smile of yours.”

“ _Camz_ , stop flirting with me,” Lauren blushes, trying to ignore the way her heart flutters, “don’t you want a fully functioning girlfriend?”

“Alright, alright,” Camila laughs, kissing her cheek, “I’ll lay off. Come on, let’s get some drinks.”

Camila gets up, holding out her hand, and Lauren takes it, letting her girlfriend help her up from the couch. She smiles, pulling her through to the kitchen, digging through the fridge for some mixers while Camila excuses herself to the hallway to rake through her bag for the bottle of vodka. When she finds it, she comes back in and hands it to Lauren, letting her mix them both a vodka and coke.

Once she’s done that, she passes Camila her drink with a smile. “For you, my lady.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Your lady?”

Lauren laughs it off. “I re-watched the first three seasons of _Game of Thrones_ , and now I can’t stop calling everyone _my lady_ or _my lord._ Honestly, I wish people still used courtesies like that. I kind of love it when I’m in the store or something and some person’s kid runs around and they’re like _look out for the lady!_ Like, _yeah_ , I’m a _lady._ ”

Camila snorts with laughter. “Alright, cutie. You’re the most elegant and regal lady there is.”

“Thank you, babe,” Lauren flashes her a toothy smile, before she holds out her hand for Camila to take and walks them back into the lounge to drop their drinks off, leaving them on the coffee table. “Do you want to go get comfy now?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods in reply, shouldering her bag in the hallway, “do you want me to go first, or…?”

“I was thinking we get changed together,” Lauren blurts out before she can second-guess herself. “I mean, you’re my girlfriend, we’re sexually active, so… changing together isn’t a big deal. It could actually be kind of intimate.”

Camila looks a little stunned at first, and Lauren almost takes back what she’d said. But then the younger girl sends her the softest smile, nodding in the direction of Lauren’s bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get comfy.”

She smiles, taking Camila’s hand and following her to her bedroom, not bothering to shut the door behind them, because they’re the only ones home. She turns around, brushing her hair out of the way, and asking Camila, “Will you unzip me?”

The younger girl smiles, stepping closer and unzipping her dress. She leans in closer, and presses a soft kiss to the dragonfly tattoo on the nape of Lauren’s neck as the dress drops to the floor, and when Lauren spins around to look at her, the younger girl takes her hands in hers and says, “unbutton my shirt, baby.”

Lauren does as she says, slowly unbuttoning Camila’s shirt and helping her out of it when she shrugs it off. Unsure, her fingers hovering over the button on Camila’s jeans, she asks, “can I?”

“Of course,” Camila smiles, and when Lauren unbuttons her jeans and she steps out of them, she sighs dramatically, “now kiss me, idiot.”

“Oh,” blinking in realisation, Lauren pulls Camila in for a kiss, squeaking in surprise when the younger girl tugs her in closer by the waist. When they pull apart, she plays with the hook on Camila’s bra. “Can I take this off? Or do you sleep in it?”

Camila cringes as if at the thought, “ew, why would I sleep in a bra? I’m not a masochist, Laur.”

Lauren laughs, rolling her eyes, “alright, I got it! But just- tell me yes or no?”

“Yes, you can _definitely_ take off my bra,” Camila assures her and when Lauren unhooks it and tosses it across the room, she plays with Lauren’s bra strap, “Can I take _yours_ off?”

“Yeah,” Lauren mumbles, letting the younger girl take her bra off and toss it across the room with her own.

That’s when Camila pushes her back onto the bed, and Lauren lets out a surprised squeak that quickly turns into a playful laugh. She figures she should’ve expected this, and as she murmurs her consent, she’s never felt happier.

Forty minutes later – because Lauren _has_ to cuddle after sex, it’s like her _rule –_ she pushes herself off the bed, dodges around Camila, and grabs her old track t-shirt from high school and pulling it on as Camila gets her pyjamas from her bag.

She quickly steps into a pair of _Harry Potter_ pyjama shorts, and then self-consciously plays with her hair. “I- um, I think I’m going to take my makeup off now? And, you know… freshen up.”

“Oh, good, I’ll join you,” Camila follows her into the bathroom, and they wash their hands and take their makeup off together; it all feels very domestic to Lauren, and she hadn’t had _this_ level of intimacy before _ever._ Not even when she was _living_ with the guy she thought was the love of her life. She knows it’s stupid now; they were eighteen and living alone for the first time, and three years later, they’re both dating people of the same sex, which is kind of hilarious.

They don’t brush their teeth yet; there’s no point, if they’re going to be drinking and ordering their dinner in a while, so they save that for later. Once they’re ready, Lauren quickly ties her hair up in a messy bun, and Camila looks at her in envy.

“God, I can never pull off the messy bun look,” Camila petulantly announces, “you can do it and look _so_ cute, but I just look like a cafeteria lady.”

Lauren snorts in amusement, running her fingers through Camila’s hair playfully. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“Trust me, you haven’t _seen_ it, and hopefully never will,” Camila replies, taking Lauren’s hand in hers and nodding towards her bedroom door. “Alright. Lounge for drinks?”

Lauren hums in confirmation, following Camila through to the lounge and immediately switching the television on before Camila can complain about how she’s _not_ instantly snuggling with her on the couch. Then, she switches her brother’s Xbox on and grabs the controller. “We can just use this to watch dumbass YouTube videos.”

“Alright, but come _cuddle,_ ” Camila makes grabby hands in her direction, and Lauren smiles, flopping down next to her once she’s turned the volume up on the TV. Camila immediately pulls her close, wrapping her arms around her waist and tracing the outline of the bee on the inside of Lauren’s wrist. “God, I love your tattoos. I don’t know why, but I most definitely have a thing for girls with tattoos and piercings. No wonder I always had such a thing for you.”

Lauren laughs. “Well, I got my nose pierced for the show, but my tattoos were for me.”

“Wait, really?” Camila blinks in surprise. “I thought you did that because you just… wanted to. And it’s not like you’ve taken it out now you’ve left the show.”

“Well, that’s because I like it and I don’t _want_ to take it out,” Lauren shrugs, playing with the silver hoop in her nose, before laughing and recalling, “when I first got it done, I had a really bad habit of playing with it constantly, and everyone thought I was picking my nose.”

Camila laughs, but she asks, “seriously, though. Did they like, _make_ you do it? Weren’t you seventeen? Isn’t that illegal?”

Lauren blinks at the multitude of questions, before sending a mere shrug in reply. “They didn’t _make_ me do it, no. And yeah, I was seventeen, but you can get it done with parental permission. Or a fake ID… you can imagine which one _I_ had. But I’d always kind of wanted to get it done, but I was never sure it’d suit me, and then the producers told me that for part of my costume I’d have to wear a fake one, so I figured I might as well take the plunge and do it for real. Had to wait like two months to put the ring in over the stud, but I’m glad I did it.”

“It’s hot,” Camila tells her like it’s a fact, before she pulls her in for a kiss, murmuring, “but _everything_ about you is hot.”

Lauren blushes, letting out that embarrassing, schoolgirl giggle, and hiding her face in Camila’s neck. “Dammit.”

“I love it when I get that reaction,” unable to play with her hair, Camila placates herself by tracing patterns against the sensitive skin of Lauren’s neck, “I should tease you even more, huh? Hm, what else can I say that would-”

“I love you,” Lauren lets the words tumble out of her mouth, and she wants to smack herself when it happens. Camila freezes against her, and Lauren wonders if it’s too soon, if she’d fucked up and ruined it all, like she fucking ruins _everything_ , because of course it was too soon and of course Camila is freaked out---

“I love you too,” Camila says after what feels like an eternity, and Lauren feels like she can finally _breathe_ again. But she still keeps hiding, her face buried in Camila’s neck, her arms wrapped around her, holding her close, scared she just said it because she can’t get away, because she feels _bad_ for her, because it _is_ too soon and she just doesn’t want to leave her. “Baby, look at me.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lauren meets Camila’s gaze, and sees nothing but love in the deep, comforting brown that she’s fallen for. _You’ve made your bed. Sleep in it._ “I- I love you.”

“I love you too,” Camila responds again, smiling the gentlest of smiles, “honestly, I’m so insanely fucking in love with you that just _I love you too_ won’t express that, but… you know, it’s the best I can do when you take me off guard like that.”

Lauren is so stunned that she just blurts out, “I love you,” again.

“Oh my god, did I break you?” Camila laughs, cupping Lauren’s jaw and pulling her in for a kiss. “You’re so cute, Laur. And once again, _I love you too._ ”

Lauren traces the outline of the monopoly man on Camila’s pyjama shirt, and starts to speak, “I-”

“Oh my god, you’re going to say it again, aren’t you?” Camila laughs. “Not that I don’t love _hearing_ you tell me you love me, but like… I feel kind of bad since now it’s apparently the only thing you can say.”

Camila cups her jaw again, and Lauren thinks she’s going to kiss her, but instead, her thumb gently grazes the skin on her cheek, and she realises how much she’s blushing right now. “I just- I didn’t think you’d say it back.”

“Oh my god, she’s talking again!” Camila dramatically announces, before she sends her a soft smile and shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I say it back? I think it’s pretty obvious that I adore you.”

Lauren sighs happily, snuggling up to her, reaching blindly behind to find the Xbox controller. “You pick something to watch.”

Camila laughs, and Lauren feels the rumble of it in her chest, the way it seems to flow through her whole body, and she hopes she _always_ feels that kind of happiness. “Alright. You want to watch a compilation video of my OTP’s cutest moments?”

Lauren crinkles her nose in confusion. “What’s an OTP?”

“Wow, you really _don’t_ know anything about fandom, huh?” Camila teases her, before she puts _All Too Well_ by Taylor Swift on and goes back to tracing patterns against the skin of Lauren’s neck, all the way down to her collarbone hidden under her shirt. “I was just joking. But you _are_ still going to watch _Silverhollow_ with me. I’m holding you to that.”

Lauren groans, but it’s more half-hearted than anything, because she’d pretty much do anything Camila asked of her. “Make me.”

“Oh, baby, I’ll make you,” Camila murmurs in reply, but instead of pulling anything, she just kisses the top of Lauren’s head. “Hey, if you’re planning on lying on me like this all night, can you please pass me my drink so I can put it somewhere within arm’s reach? Because I _really_ don’t want to disturb you when you look this cute.”

“You love me,” Lauren mumbles aloud, and she knows Camila hears it, because she smiles fondly and kisses the top of her head again. After giving herself a few more moments of content, she pushes herself up, grabs both of their drinks from the coffee table, and passes Camila hers. She drains her glass in one, knowing that the vodka will hit her fast since she’d barely eaten today, and then grabs her laptop from where she’d left it and announces, “Pizza?”

“Okay. Get me a Hawaiian,” Camila tells her, and Lauren pulls a disgusted expression, but adds it to the order, doing a small _create your own_ for herself, since she knows that Camila doesn’t share pizza. She adds chicken, bacon and garlic butter, before adding that to their basket and getting a couple of sides for them to share, as well as cookies for dessert. “Damn, we’re going all out, huh?”

Almost like she wants to solidify that idea, Lauren goes back to their basket, changes her own pizza to a medium, and announces, “My New Year’s resolution is to just… go to the gym, work all of this off, and then I won’t feel guilty about eating it tonight.”

Camila snorts with laughter. “And then there’s just me, who eats like this on the regular and refuses to ever feel guilty about it.”

“You can get away with it,” Lauren looks at her in envy; she’s just like Lucy, who can eat whatever she wants and stay slim, but Lauren’s annoying metabolism hates her and doesn’t let her do the same thing. “Stupid metabolism. Stupid fried foods tasting so good that I don’t _care_ about my metabolism being a slow motherfucker.”

“You’re fine, baby,” Camila assures her, leaning forwards to pull her in for a kiss as Lauren places their order, “besides, I think it’s cute when a girl can match me in an eating contest.”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “I most _definitely_ couldn’t do that. Not at your speed, anyway.”

Camila flexes her bicep, “What can I say, I’m just too _strong_. Not physically, I’m actually very weak, but like… my _stomach?_ That’s the muscle that _always_ gets worked to the _bone_. I actually do think I could win some kind of eating contest. We should find one and enter! Just cute, romantic things to do with your girlfriend.”

“What, a whole ass eating contest?” Lauren laughs at the mental picture. “Yeah, I definitely couldn’t win one of those. I’m a fast eater, but not on _your_ level, and I prefer to eat slowly anyway so I enjoy it more.”

Camila just shrugs, “I’m basically like a vacuum. Everything just gets sucked in. Or like a _sponge_ , and I absorb everything.”

“One of my teachers once compared me to a sponge on parents’ evening. She said _Lauren is like a sponge, she sits and soaks up all the information and then throws it back up onto the exam paper,_ ” Lauren recalls, “it was actually quite a proud moment for me. And it’s kind of true, I’m really good at memorising shit.”

“Well, you kind of _have_ to be,” Camila points out, finishing off her drink, “you need to remember all your lines.”

“True, but at that point, I wasn’t a _serious actor_ ,” Lauren shrugs, then considers this and adds, “then again, I don’t think I ever _will_ be a _serious_ actor, because I’m pretty much never serious.”

“I don’t know, baby, I think you take it pretty seriously,” Camila shrugs, and then bursts out laughing, pulling Lauren up and towards the kitchen for a drinks refill, “so, I was watching _Friends_ the other day, the episode with the alternate universe where Joey never got fired from _Days of Our Lives,_ and he tries to use a line from the show as a pick-up line on Rachel. And I was thinking, have you ever done that?”

Lauren raises her eyebrows as she fills up their drinks, bringing the big bottle of coke and the vodka into the lounge with them so they don’t have to get up again. “Most of my lines on the show are about a serial killer, and I don’t think that’s the best way to pick up girls.”

Camila laughs, shaking her head, “No, I know _that_ , but like, the romantic ones. Like all the _intimate_ scenes between Vanessa and Emilia. Have you ever lifted any lines from the show to hit on anyone?”

“If I like someone I can barely say _hi_ to them, let alone remember a whole ass line,” Lauren reminds her, quickly adding, “besides, I feel like walking up and actively _flirting_ is only something I’d do with a girl, and you’re the only girl I’ve been with in _any_ aspect.”

“You’ve literally never even _flirted_ with a woman before me?” Camila asks her, and Lauren imagines up the judgement, imagines that she’s one of _those_ gay women who don’t _trust_ bisexual women in case they’ll _stray for dick_ or something equally as stupid, but instead, Camila just smiles and says, “Well, I’m honoured to be your first.”

Lauren blinks in surprise, already feeling guilty she’d imagined the worst. “It doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

Camila snorts in amusement. “No, of course not. I think it’s sweet, and your past relationships don’t matter because this is the only _other_ relationship you’re ever going to have, so…”

Lauren’s mouth works at the words, and eventually, her face settles into a happy grin. “The only other relationship I’m ever going to have?”

“You’re mine, baby,” Camila says it like it’s _fact_ , “and I’d be the _stupidest_ person on the planet to even think about letting you go, so yeah. This is it for me.”

Lauren practically throws herself at the younger girl, dotting kisses across her cheeks, and telling her, “this is it for me too. I love you.”

Camila

The room is spinning. She doesn’t remember when it _started_ to spin, but she doesn’t think it’s that big of a problem, because she doesn’t need to get up and walk to Lauren’s bedroom, because they’re perfectly comfortable in a bundle of blankets on the couch. Lauren is eating a slice of pizza left over from earlier, and her green eyes are misty and clouded, but she won’t stop telling Camila that she loves her, and that pretty much makes this the best night ever in Camila’s head.

 _Lauren Jauregui loves her_. Loves her _like that_ , not in that platonic _I love you_ way you say to your friends, but in a _real_ way, in the way Camila loves her back, and she feels like her whole life is complete. She’s not even freaking out in the way she would if she went back and told her _stan_ self that Lauren loves her, she’s freaking out because Lauren is the person she knows she’s meant to be with, and to hear her say _I love you_ like that, so out of the blue… it’s pretty much made her whole life.

She hadn’t expected it; Camila knew she loved Lauren, but she didn’t think Lauren was there yet. But she _was_ , and she’d just _said_ it, so unexpectedly, so much that Camila is still reeling hours later.

“You love me,” She blurts out as Lauren finishes off her last little bit of crust and looks up at her in surprise, like she’d forgotten she was there, snuggled next to her on the couch as _Camp Rock_ plays on TV. “Lauren. You love me.”

“Yeah!” Lauren enthusiastically replies, nuzzling against her, “and you love _me_.”

“We love each other,” Camila announces, laughing, because it’s _true_ , “hey, do you want to go on a nice romantic getaway on spring break? Like, we could road trip somewhere, or we could like… do whatever. I just want to be with my _Lauren._ Who _loves_ me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lauren yawns, “we’ll road trip and I’ll drive. I’m a good driver. I’d show you how good I am at it, but I’m a little drunk right now and I don’t want to a) die, or b) get arrested for driving under the influence.”

“She’s smart even when she’s drunk, everyone,” Camila announces to nobody in particular, and then pouts, announcing, “take a picture with me. We need to document our memories, especially because we probably won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

Lauren laughs, grabbing her phone from where she’d left it on the coffee table and taking a couple of pictures, actually uploading them to Instagram instead of just posting them to her story. She captions it _seeing the new year in with my favourite person @camila_cabello,_ and they both triple check it to make sure there aren’t any spelling mistakes, because for _Lauren the Grammar Queen,_ that would be embarrassing.

“There, we look cute,” Lauren announces as she uploads the photo and puts her phone down again, “now _shush_ , the best song in the whole movie is coming up.”

Camila raises her eyebrows, ready for that one Jonas Brothers song to come on, but instead it’s Tess singing _Too Cool._ “This is _not_ the best song in the movie.”

“Yes it is, it’s so bad that it’s good.” Lauren laughs at the ridiculous choreography. “Can you believe she invented pop music?”

“What I don’t get is why this movie is called _Camp Rock_ when all of the songs are pop, like… shouldn’t they have called it _Camp Pop_?” Camila asks, before she frowns and answers her own question. “Actually, _Camp Pop_ sounds like it’s about to explode, I think that would make people not want to go.”

Lauren chuckles in amusement, “I remember when this movie came out and I _desperately_ wanted to go to Camp Rock. But obviously it’s not a real place, but I _did_ go to summer camp the next year.”

Camila hums in reply. “I never went to a camp. I was always too socially awkward to go stay somewhere without my mom and like… _talk_ to people. So my summers were always spent staying up until four in the morning reading fanfiction.”

Lauren twists to look at her and sends her a teasing grin. “About me?”

“About _Vanessa_ ,” Camila pokes her in the side, “I cared more about your fictional counterpart and _her_ girlfriend rather than you and your _rumoured_ girlfriend.”

“ _You’re_ my rumoured girlfriend now.” Lauren murmurs, “I hope you care about _that_.”

“I care about you,” Camila shrugs, kissing her forehead; she feels like she’s going to _explode_ into a big mess of heart emojis when Lauren does that cute little giggle and blushes, but she keeps herself contained. “Nothing else matters, as long as I have my amazingly perfect girlfriend. Who _will_ win five million Oscars and Emmys, I’m manifesting that into the universe for you.”

“I don’t think I can win five million before I die,” Lauren announces, before she shrugs and says, “post-humus. Or as a ghost actor. Oh my god, I’m definitely going to come back as a ghost and audition for things and then _haunt_ them into giving me the part.”

Camila grins. “I’d give you all the parts anyway. I’d be like _yep_ , just wrote this new show and I want Lauren Jauregui to star in it, and she has to play _every_ part. No other actors, just her.”

“Oh my god, that’s so funny, _yes_ ,” Lauren laughs, singing along to the last couple of lines of _Too Cool_ before she nuzzles against Camila again, “and you can sing all the songs in the soundtrack! A two woman production, written, directed, acted, produced, sung by _us._ And then we’ll win all the ‘ _Best’_ Oscars, and we’ll have so many we won’t know what to do with them.”

“We’re such a good team,” Camila laughs, before she checks her phone and likes Lauren’s post on Instagram. It’s already at almost a hundred thousand likes, and all of the comments include some variation of _Camren._ “Our ship name is _Camren_ , apparently.”

“It should be _Laurenandtheloveofherlifemila_ ,” Lauren jokes to herself, and Camila laughs, but then she cringes and says, “no, don’t laugh, that was just _bad_. _Pathetic_. I’ve been told I’m not funny.”

“I think you’re funny,” Camila tells her, and she means it. “Anyway, I love you.”

“You know I love you too!” Lauren exclaims, before she has another sip of her drink and glances back over to the movie. “You know what my favourite scene in this whole movie is? When Joe Jonas is their hip hop dance instructor. Like… _Joe Jonas_. I’m pretty sure he’s the _last_ person you’d want to learn hip hop dance from.”

Camila laughs. “ _I’m_ the last person you’d want to learn hip hop dance from. Joe Jonas is a close second. _My_ favourite scene is when Demi Lovato’s friend is playing her GarageBand beats and everyone is loving it even though it sounds like my middle school flip phone ringtone.”

Lauren snorts. “Me at Camp Rock, just whacks a couple of beats out on GarageBand and pretends I’m a music producer.”

“You’d go to Camp _Acting_ – I know, such a creative name,” Camila jokes before Lauren can make fun of her. “And you’d be like, the _Mitchie_ of the whole thing. Because you’d be the star.”

“ _No_ , you’d be Mitchie, and I’d be Shane, obviously,” Lauren says, before a realisation seems to hit her and she bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, babe, we literally _are_ Mitchie and Shane. Except Mitchie wasn’t a fictional Jonas Brothers fan, but remember? Later in the movie when everyone finds out that Mitchie’s mom doesn’t _actually_ work at that TV station and that she’s the cook, Shane is all like _oh my god you lied to get close to me._ ”

Camila laughs with her until her stomach starts to hurt. “I can’t believe we’re actually finding parallels to our relationship in _Camp_ fucking _Rock._ Love being Demi Lovato.”

“Shane is extra for a while but then they eventually make up _and_ make out,” Lauren finishes, and as if she’s emphasising this, she pulls Camila in for a kiss, “happy new year! Congratulations, you won yourself a date with _Lauren Jauregui._ Oh my god, I remember this one time we did this funny little thing for some YouTube video where we did like _speed dating_ with fans but it was in character. You’d have loved that since you _obviously_ love Vanessa more than me.”

“No, no,” Camila shakes her head, pulling Lauren closer and kissing the top of her head. “I love you more than Vanessa! I mean, it _used_ to be the other way around, because like I’ve told you, I was always more focused on what the fictional characters were doing rather than the actors who play them, but I still adored you, and I’m in _love_ with you now, and- and you were just messing with me, weren’t you?”

Lauren’s serious expression finally cracks and she bursts out laughing. “Yeah. I was.”

“Bitch,” Camila shoves her playfully, scowling as Lauren laughs at her, “you’re _actually_ the worst.”

Lauren wiggles her eyebrows. “Thought you were in love with me?”

“Doesn’t stop you from being the worst,” Camila retorts, shoving her again and laughing when Lauren topples off the couch and ends up on the floor. “Yeah, that’s what you get.”

“ _When you let your heart win_ ,” Lauren sings back to her, and when Camila looks at her questioningly, she rolls her eyes, “ _God_ , can’t believe I fell in love with someone who doesn’t like _Paramore_.”

“I’ll listen to them tomorrow when I’m not drunk,” Camila promises her, because if Lauren likes something, she’s going to take an interest in it too, or at least make an _effort_ to do so. “Promise. But you have to promise _me_ that I’m the one you take when you inevitably go to see them in concert.”

“Of course, if you want to deal with my _fangirling_ ass,” Lauren jokes, still lying on the floor where she’d fallen, “Honestly, I had _such_ a huge crush on Hayley when I was younger and I’m only just realising it now. She’s so hot. But you’re hotter, because you’re my girlfriend and I love you.”

“No, no, let’s talk about even more celebrity crushes, I have a massive list,” Camila replies, “but only if you come back up here and cuddle me again. Otherwise I _don’t_ want to hear it.”

Lauren laughs, but shakes her head. “I’m comfy now. And you’ll just push me off again.”

“No, I won’t, pinky promise,” Camila assures her, “I honestly just want to snuggle with my girl. Come on, we’ve got like…” she grabs Lauren’s phone from the coffee table and checks the time, “oh, shit, three minutes to midnight, we nearly missed it.”

“Oh my god, we can’t miss _midnight,_ ” Lauren pushes herself up, stumbles, falls again, laughs, and then manages to manoeuvre her way back onto the couch. “That’s probably like, bad luck or something. A toast! Oh, my glass is empty.”

She quickly fills it up with a little bit of coke, and does the same to Camila’s empty glass, holding it up. Camila watches her in amusement; her image is blurry in her drunken vision, but in Camila’s mind, she’s never looked more beautiful. “What’re we toasting to, you cute little baby?”

Lauren scrunches her nose up in annoyance, “I am a big macho tough guy, thanks. And we’re toasting to the new year, _duh_. 2018, let’s fuck shit up, but in a good way. I will figure out what I’m going to do for the rest of my life, and _you_ will be really cute and pretty and you’re going to ace your junior year. And win… twelve Grammys. Speaking it into existence.”

They clink their glasses together, and Camila laughs. “Guess what?”

Lauren downs the coke and asks, “What?”

“You’re my celebrity crush,” Camila jokes, “but also just my _crush_. And also like, the love of my life and all that.”

“Yeah, that too,” Lauren snorts with laughter, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder, “you’re _my_ celebrity crush. Prematurely, because you’re _going_ to be like, the biggest musician in the world. You’re going to _blow_ up. Not literally explode, though. That would hurt.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” Camila laughs, and glances at the time on Lauren’s phone again, “unlock it so we can see the little clock thingy on the app icon go down.”

Lauren unlocks it with her thumbprint, and as they watch the little seconds hand finally hits zero, Camila pulls Lauren in for a kiss, cupping the older girl’s jaw. It’s messy and not at all romantic, because they’re both completely hammered, but when they pull away, Lauren looks at her like she’s just had the kiss of a lifetime.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Lauren murmurs, and for a moment she seems to have sobered up a little, until her eyes go as wide as saucers and she blurts out, “oh my god, we need _grapes_! I can’t believe we _forgot._ ”

Camila laughs, and lets Lauren drag her through to the kitchen; the older girl walks into the door frame, blinks, smacks it like that will have any kind of effect, and then grabs a load of grapes, shoving a handful into her mouth.

“Alright, don’t choke please,” Camila warns her, eating a couple herself; not really for tradition, more so because she’s kind of hungry and she wants to save her leftover pizza for breakfast. “I don’t want to start my new year with a dead girlfriend, I’m pretty sure that’s bad luck.”

Lauren finishes her grapes and mumbles, “I think that was twelve,” before she glances over at Camila and smiles so brightly it almost blinds her. “Hi!”

“Forget I was here?” Camila laughs, taking her hand and pulling her closer until she can hold her by the waist. “Is it bedtime now?”

“Um… don’t you want to finish watching _Camp Rock?_ ” Lauren asks her, and Camila snorts with laughter, but nods in affirmation. “Okay.”

She tugs her back into the lounge, pouncing on the rumpled blanket laying haphazardly across the couch and bundling herself up in it, immediately opening it up for Camila to snuggle with her. Lauren cuddles up to her, head on her chest, fingers absently walking across the skin of Camila’s midriff as they watch the movie.

By the time Lauren’s family get home half an hour later, both of them are asleep, Camila holding Lauren tight, and the older girl looks completely, unmistakably content for the first time in years.


	23. Chapter 23

Lauren

“This semester is going to suck.” She announces, rolling over in her bed and meeting Camila’s tired, hazy gaze. “Just to warn you, there are a couple of things I have to go to L.A. for.”

Camila pouts, and pulls her closer as if to say _no_ , _you’re not going anywhere._ “How come?”

“SAG Awards and Golden Globes are the end of this month and we’re pretty much always nominated for something there,” Lauren shrugs, “but a lot of it isn’t until summer, and after that I’ll already have graduated, so I won’t need to stress about missing class. Like Comic Con, we’ve definitely got a panel and meet and greet there. But while there’s like, the break between seasons, we normally have to do a bunch of promotional stuff and my agents have pretty much told me I have to do it so people won’t _forget about me_.”

“Even though that’s what you want,” Camila comments, kissing the top of her head. She looks a little uneasy at the mention of Lauren’s graduation, but she doesn’t comment on it. “Well… I’ll miss you?”

“You don’t need to miss me. To be honest, I was wondering if you’d come with me,” Lauren blurts out before she can stress about it. “I don’t really want to go to any of it, but… but if you were there, it would make it a little better. And, um… I’m nominated for a Golden Globe – Best Actress in a Drama TV series – and I was hoping you’d- well, if I win, I was hoping you’d be okay with me thanking you.”

Camila frowns, and Lauren can tell she’s surprised at the question. “As your girlfriend?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I don’t even think I’m going to _win_ , I’ve never even been _nominated_ for one before, but…” Lauren trails off, “I wouldn’t name you if you’re not comfortable with that, I’d just say that I want to thank my beautiful girlfriend. Or I _will_ name you and not call you my girlfriend. Or I’ll just do both. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m okay with that,” Camila assures her, “and you _will_ win. You and I both know how talented you are.”

“To be honest, I’m kind of dreading the whole thing. Award shows were fun in the first year, and it was exciting to win stuff, and _this_ is insane, being nominated for a fucking _Golden Globe_ , but like… I just don’t want to have to be…” she cuts herself off with a frustrated groan, “I don’t want to have to be _Lauren Jauregui_. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not really, since you’re kind of _always_ Lauren Jauregui,” Camila teases her, and Lauren rolls her eyes, cuddling Nala closer to her chest, “no, I’m messing with you. I do know what you mean. You don’t want to have to be your like… _fake_ _public persona._ ”

“Exactly,” Lauren mumbles, nuzzling her face into Camila’s neck, and sighing happily when Camila starts to trace patterns against the bare skin of her hip, “just want to be _me_ , but I never am in those kinds of situations. I physically _can’t_ be because I’m too fucking _anxious_ all the time. You don’t know how many times I’d have fucking panic attacks before award shows just in case- in case I did something like _look_ at Lucy for more than two seconds because I knew people would point it out and make it mean more than it did. It’s like- whenever I’m _Lauren Jauregui, actress_ , it’s like I’m under a fucking microscope that millions of people are staring down at once.”

“Maybe we should just run away,” Camila jokes, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “you and me. We’ll fake our own deaths and disappear.”

“I would if I could,” Lauren murmurs, and it’s not even a _joke_. If it was a legitimate option, sometimes she feels like disappearing and living the rest of her life in some kind of cottage deep in the woods would be a better way to live her life. But she loves acting too much to do that. If only there was a way to switch faces; _Lauren Jauregui_ would still have her career, but Lauren could hide behind someone else and live a normal life. “You know, I think Hannah Montana had the best idea when it came to the whole fame thing.”

Camila laughs, playing with her hair. “Want to order a blonde wig off Amazon?”

Lauren snorts. “More like a whole new face.”

“Aw, no, don’t do _that_ , you’re too pretty,” Camila murmurs, and it makes Lauren’s stomach flip, “why don’t you just… promise your agents and PR team that you actually _will_ be more active on social media? Nobody can literally _force_ you to go to these award shows. What’re they going to do? Come up here and kidnap you?”

Lauren barks out a laugh, and even though she knows she _could_ just ignore their calls until after the award shows had already finished, she shakes her head. “No, I have to go. I’m not bothering with the after-party at either event; probably just going to go back to Lucy’s and go to bed. But if you came with me, and you wanted to go, we can.”

“Laur, going home and going to bed is _literally_ my favourite activity.” Camila laughs. “And if you’re sure you want me to come, I’m sure I can skip college for that. I skip college when I feel mildly upset, so… it’s not a big deal to me.”

“Thank you,” Lauren murmurs, “we usually get plus-one invites, but I’ll call my agent and double check. But for now, I honestly just want to focus on getting through the next month.”

Camila’s fingers weave through her hair, and Lauren is instantly comforted by it. “So, um… what about the Oscars? Are you ever invited to those?”

“We got invited last year, the whole cast. It was kind of like… an out of body experience.” Lauren laughs to herself; the whole night, she didn’t believe it was _real_ , that it was actually happening to _her_ , “Obviously we weren’t nominated for anything since it’s _movie_ awards and not television, but it was kind of crazy. I’m pretty sure we got another collective invite this year, but I’m not going. I’m only going to the Golden Globes because I’m nominated for something, as well as the show as a whole being nominated. And the SAG Awards, since the show is nominated for Outstanding Performance by an Ensemble in a Drama Series.”

Camila hums. “So it’s just the Golden Globes and SAG Awards that you’re going to?”

“Yeah, those are the only ones I’ve been roped into attending,” Lauren rolls her eyes when her alarm goes off again, warning her that they need to get up or they’ll miss class. “And now _you’ve_ been dragged into them as well. They’re in the same week, so... won’t be gone for long.”

Camila nods, and when Lauren silences her alarm again, she groans and announces, “can you _really_ be bothered to get up and go to class? Because I can’t.”

Lauren snorts with laughter, and she goes to push herself up, to get out of bed so she can jump in the shower quickly, but if anything, Camila holds her even tighter. “ _Camz_ , come on, we need to get up. Especially if you want to make it in time for our ritual coffee/hot chocolate.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “You can’t make me get up, and I refuse to do it.”

“Come on, babe, it’s _nine_ in the morning,” Lauren points out with a laugh, “while I’m filming, _nine_ is like… sleeping until one in the afternoon for me. It’s not that bad.”

“Can’t believe I fell in love with a morning person,” Camila mumbles to herself, shaking her head. “Disgusting.”

Lauren scoffs at _that_ description. “I am _not_ a morning person. But when I have to be on set for five in the morning for hair and makeup, _nine_ seems like a reasonable lie in.”

Camila yawns, and when she finally loosens her grip on Lauren, the older girl breaks away from her and jumps out of bed. Camila, on the other hand, merely grabs Nala and cuddles her instead, pulling the covers over her head. “Come back and get me in four hours.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows, and once she’s stretched, she says, “do you want me to jump on you? Because I will.”

“Bring it, baby,” Camila laughs tiredly, “won’t bother me. Honestly, the longer you stand there, the more _dreamlike_ my whole life gets, because oh my _god_ , naked Lauren Jauregui has to be the eighth wonder of the world.”

“Fine,” Lauren ignores her compliment, because she knows it’s just to butter her up, and glances towards her bedroom door and gets an idea, “but you won’t like it when I come back in here with a glass of ice cold water and I pour it all over your head.”

“Hey, it’s _your_ bedsheets that you’ll be pouring water all over, so that’s not really my problem,” Camila stays snuggled up, and Lauren realises that she’s _right._ “Face it, baby. You’re not getting me up today.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows, thinking of a better plan, and then she walks back over to her bed, throws the covers off Camila, grabs her by the ankles and drags her kicking and screaming onto the floor. “There. You’re up.”

As Lauren goes to head to the bathroom for her shower, Camila grabs her by the ankle, and she trips forwards, managing to break her fall with her arms. When she turns around and sends Camila a glare, the younger girl lets out a deafening war cry and pounces on her, pinning her to the ground.

“Got you,” Camila grins, leaning down and kissing Lauren’s forehead. “You’re mine, Jauregui.”

“I’ve always been yours,” Lauren murmurs, looking up at the woman straddling her waist. She bites down on her bottom lip and mumbles, “Sleep over again tonight?”

“Next thing you know, I’ll be moving in,” Camila remarks, and if the younger girl hadn’t already had a signed lease with her friends, Lauren would’ve asked her to move in in a heartbeat. She _hates_ living alone, and she _loves_ Camila and her company. “But of course, mi amor. I’ll need to run home after class and grab some fresh clothes for tomorrow. And, you know, I have those pyjamas that I didn’t end up wearing tonight.”

Lauren stares up at her, before she reaches out and takes Camila’s hand, playing with her fingers. “I wish you could stay here every night. I don’t like being alone.”

“I know, my love,” Camila squeezes her hand and finally pushes herself from Lauren, standing up and helping the older girl up as well, “but hey, you know you can always call me any time you feel lonely. I’ll come right over.”

“I know,” Lauren sends her a small smile, and before she can help herself, she falls into a hug, hiding her face in Camila’s neck. “I love you. Thank you for loving me back.”

Camila laughs, wrapping her arms around her waist and holding her close. “Nothing to thank me for. I’ll always love you back. Now go get that shower you were so _desperate_ to get up for. I’ll make toast.”

When the younger girl pulls out of the hug, she kisses her forehead again before practically gliding out of the room, and Lauren watches her, entranced by her, completely under her spell.

Camila

“I know it sounds stupid, but like… sometimes I feel like she’s _better_ than me,” Camila blurts out as she flicks through her closet for something to wear tomorrow. “Like, I don’t have a _career_ in anything. I just have a dumb job I go back to at home over summer and Christmas. She’s- I mean, she _doesn’t_ have everything worked out because nobody does, but at least she has some form of security.”

“Isn’t being an actor like, one of the _least_ secure kind of jobs?” Normani asks her. “Besides, she’s not better than you. You’re putting her on a pedestal.”

“No, I’m not, because I _know_ that she’s not some kind of perfect goddess with absolutely no kind of flaw,” Camila rolls her eyes, finally selecting a sweater from her closet. “I just- I’m kind of worried about what’s going to happen when she graduates. Like… like our relationship is on some kind of timer and we’re just going to break up once she’s not _here._ She’ll be in L.A., and what’s to say she’ll want to visit me?”

“Why are you even thinking about this?” Normani asks. “Like, what _made_ you think about it?”

“She was talking about how this semester she has a couple of responsibilities in L.A., but most of them are in summer after she graduates, and I’m like… she’s not going to come _back._ When she graduates, that’s it,” Camila runs a hand through her hair. “Is it wrong that I’m worried about this? I know she wouldn’t like, _dump_ me for some famous person, she’s not like that, but I’m so scared that we’ll never be able to see each other and then the relationship will just… fizzle out.”

“Didn’t you say she literally told you she’s in love with you?” Normani questions her, and Camila _knows_ that, but she _also_ knows that it’s _easy_ when you get to see each other every day, when you go to _college_ together. “That won’t change just because she’s a few hours away.”

“I just- I’m worried,” Camila sighs, “should I talk to her about it?”

Normani nods. “If you want things to work out, you both need to be honest with each other. I’m sure she’ll understand your worries.”

Camila nods, stuffing her clothes for tomorrow into her backpack. “Alright. I’ll talk to her tonight. She’s picking me up.”

Almost as if on cue, a car horn beeps outside, and Camila knows that it’s Lauren. She quickly shoulders her backpack, and flashes Normani a smile. “Alright, thanks for letting me rant at you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Normani replies, and once Camila makes her way downstairs, she pulls Dinah in for a goodbye hug and heads out of the front door, jumping in Lauren’s car and immediately pulling her in for a kiss.

Lauren smiles against her lips, and when they pull away, she murmurs, “well, that was a nice greeting.”

“Hi baby,” Camila grins, and when Lauren starts driving, all of her worries seem to melt away. “So, what’s the plan?”

“A cute, romantic dinner and then… anything you want.” Lauren shrugs. “I’ve already made dinner reservations, they’re in like… just over an hour? And then when we get home we can find a show to watch or something.”

They go back to Lauren’s place for a little while, and Camila finds it infinitely adorable when Lauren immediately goes to her fridge and grabs a little juice box out. It’s funny; back when Camila was merely Lauren’s _fan_ , she always thought she’d find her incredibly intimidating in real life, but Lauren is actually the softest, most adorable person she’s ever met. She doesn’t know how she could ever find Lauren intimidating when she drinks juice boxes and still cuddles with her stuffed animal. She positively _melts_ when Lauren gets out a little fruit roll, rips it open and tucks the little collectible card into the back pocket of her jeans.

“What?” Lauren looks at her, and Camila just kisses her, telling her just how cute she is without actually having to _say_ it.

“You collect the little cards?” Camila questions, delving into Lauren’s back pocket and holding the card up. “You are the _cutest_ person to ever exist.”

“The cards are just a bonus, this is one of my five-a-day,” Lauren munches on her fruit roll, before she admits, “then again, I never usually eat the other _four_ of my five-a-day, so technically it doesn’t count. Does _juice_ count? Oh, do you want anything, by the way? Help yourself.”

Camila gets her own juice box out; Lauren has either orange juice or apple, and she chooses apple, the only _correct_ option. “Where are we going to dinner?”

“A cute little Thai restaurant I found on Google,” Lauren answers, before she tugs Camila over to the couch, pretty much _pushes_ her down onto it, and then walks over to the door. She grabs something from where she usually leaves her keys, and holds it out to Camila. “Here.”

Camila frowns; it’s _another_ key. “What’s this for?”

“My apartment,” Lauren says it like it’s obvious. “You can totally give it back if you’re not comfortable, but I just… I don’t know. You’re genuinely welcome here any time, even if I’m not home, and I just… want to show you how much I love and trust you.”

Camila takes the key, pocketing it, and pulling Lauren in for a hug. It’s funny, how a little key can mean so much; it definitely helps alleviate her worries from earlier. “I love you and trust you with everything I have, baby.”

“Good,” Lauren murmurs into her neck, “now, I’m going to go change; I’m in the mood to wear a dress to dinner tonight.”

Camila uses the time Lauren takes to change as an excuse to touch her makeup up in the bathroom, and when Lauren joins her, she thinks about how _domestic_ the whole thing feels. But _then_ that just makes her think about how by June, Lauren will be gone. She’ll be five hours away in L.A. and Camila will have to fly home to Miami for the summer _anyway_ , which will make matters worse.

She shakes it off, and when she watches Lauren doing her eyeliner, she thinks to herself _don’t think about the future. Live in the moment._

That works as they’re walking to the restaurant, until a woman with a camera walks right up to them, blatantly takes a photograph, and starts asking Lauren questions about their ‘rumoured romance’.

“No comment,” Lauren tries to blank her, to keep a straight face, but Camila can see the anguish underneath it all, “please leave us alone.”

“What was the point in coming out, if you’re going to hide your girlfriend like she’s a dirty secret?” The woman harasses her, and then she asks, “Or is this just a cover-up for the rumoured romance between you and your co-star, Lucy Vives?”

Lauren ignores her, but seeing the pain behind her eyes, the way she looks so panicked and anxious, Camila snaps. “Why can’t you people just fuck off and leave her alone? How would you like it if I interrupted your evening with a friend by waving a camera in your face and asking you invasive fucking questions about your love life? You’re pathetic. Feel free to quote me on that.”

Then, she pushes the woman aside, and pulls Lauren ahead, walking faster than she usually would, and murmuring, “it’s okay baby, you’re okay,” as the woman remains on the sidewalk behind them, looking stunned that Camila had talked back like that.

“I hate them.” Lauren finally spits out, and it’s stuttered and quiet, but Camila still hears the bite behind it. “It’s not even _half_ as bad here as it is in L.A. There would’ve been at least _ten_ different people there, but it still- it just…”

“It hurts you because you can’t fight back without being labelled a bitch,” Camila finishes for her, “but I can. I don’t have managers or PR teams or whatever, but I _do_ have the need to defend my girlfriend.”

Lauren sighs, leaning against a wall, and when she looks up at Camila, she looks so broken and defeated. “I just- that’s what makes me hate it. _They’re_ worse than the invasive fans, because at least the fans are doing it because they kind of _care_ about you, in their own weird way. The paparazzi are so much worse because they’re just doing it for money.”

Camila pulls her in for a tight hug, nuzzling her face into Lauren’s neck. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

“Like I said, it’s worse in L.A. That’s why I’m scared about going back for the Golden Globes and SAG Awards,” Lauren looks back in the direction of the woman, but she’s gone. “Sometimes I feel like- like figuring out how to time travel so I can go back to my seventeen year old self and tell her _not_ to do it. _Don’t_ audition, because even though you love it, you’ll have to deal with _that_ bullshit too.”

Camila nods, and before she can worry, she blurts out, “so that’s why you’re still stuck on whether or not to go back to L.A. once you graduate.”

“Yeah,” Lauren mumbles, taking Camila’s hand and starting to walk them down the street again, “sometimes I feel like just… buying a house in the middle of the woods and going to live there forever. With you, of course.”

Camila’s stomach flutters, and her doubts from earlier start to melt away again. “You mean that?”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t it be amazing? Nobody to bother us,” Lauren sighs wistfully, making a left down a side street, “I’d literally _never_ have to wear clothes ever again. Perfect.”

“Okay, so where can I buy this house, because- oh my _god_ ,” Camila eyes Lauren with a certain kind of hunger, practically undressing her with her eyes, “if that’s the deal, we move out into the woods and you’ll become a straight up _nudist?_ Yes, where do I sign up?”

Lauren laughs. “Wow, can’t believe you’re only in it for my body and not the thrill of my company.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but just…” Camila trails off, “I don’t know, I just adore your body, and getting to see it totally unfiltered every single day? Fuck yes.”

Lauren snorts with amusement, “Well, when I lived alone after breaking up with Luis, I would pretty much get home and then wander around in the birthday suit all night. There’s a nice mental image for you. That’s what I usually do on nights where you’re staying at home and I’m not sleeping over with you.”

“Well, now you _will_ be doing that every single night, thanks,” Camila informs her, even though she probably won’t be able to function if her beautiful girlfriend is constantly flaunting said beauty in front of her. “So, yeah, please buy this beautiful house in the woods for us. I’m down to move in next week.”

“You’re so cute,” Lauren laughs, and after a few moments, she blinks in realisation, and one of those genuine, goofy smiles settles on her face, “I love that you just cheered me up without even trying.”

Camila squeezes her hand, “That’s all I want to do, my love.”

When they get into the restaurant, Camila is the one to say _we have a reservation_ , and when they get taken to their table, she makes sure to pull Lauren’s chair out for her, and kiss the top of her girlfriend’s head before she glides over to the other side of the table and sits down herself.

Lauren is quiet for a moment, before she reaches across the table and takes Camila’s hand, murmuring, “I was _miserable_ before I met you.”

Camila blinks in surprise, and her heart pretty much breaks for the older girl, “What?”

“My anxiety had never been worse. I wanted to leave _Silverhollow_ after season two, and I was so stressed all the time that I started drinking and smoking a _lot_ to cope. I can honestly understand why a lot of young actors tend to… spiral.” Lauren admits, grateful that her parents had realised something was up and flown out to L.A. “My parents flew out because they were worried about me, and after what could only be described as a _mental breakdown_ , we pretty much came to the conclusion that I needed to be out of L.A. They wanted me to just go home to Miami and spend the year there, but… I came up with the _bright_ idea of college.”

Camila frowns. “Then why’d you stay for season three?”

“I had to. I’d already signed all the contracts and stuff. I probably _could’ve_ gotten out of them if I’d been so desperate that I’d hired a lawyer, but I was just so tired and depressed that I didn’t want to put myself through all of that, and it wasn’t the _show_ that was the problem, anyway,” Lauren shrugs, biting down on her bottom lip, “It was the paparazzi and the invasive fans. So that’s when I told them I wanted to leave, that I needed to take a break, and they were… _reluctant_ to let it happen, but they did. Eventually. But even when I got here, I was still miserable. In fact, I felt even _worse_ , because my closest friends were all five hours away, I didn’t know anybody, and everyone on campus kept looking at me like I was some kind of _freak show_. Which is really great for the anxiety, as you can imagine.”

Camila squeezes her hand across the table. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with all of that. I can understand why- why you got so upset when you found out that I was a fan.”

“I know, but it still wasn’t justified, the way I treated you, and I’m still sorry about that,” Lauren squeezes her hand, “but since meeting you… I don’t know, it’s kind of like my perspective has changed slightly. At least in regard to the fans, and realising they’re _not_ all crazy and invasive. I actually did a little Q&A thing today on Instagram live, and it was _nice_ talk to the fans. There were a few negative comments from a couple of the crazies telling me to die or calling me a fat bitch because I’m not marrying Lucy or whatever, and- and before I met you, it would’ve fucked me up, but… I’m a million times happier now, without even _realising_ it. I was _miserable_ before I met you, because I felt like I didn’t have anything good in my life. But you made me realise that I _do_ have good things in my life, even if other parts are the fucking _worst_.”

Camila wishes she could kiss her, but with a whole table in the way, she settles for nudging Lauren’s foot with hers under the table. “I’m glad you’re feeling happier. Honestly, it kills me to see you down, and I _really_ love that cute little smile of yours, so… I’m grateful that I could help in making it happen more often.”

Lauren smiles the smile in question and squeezes her hand. “I love you so much. And I know that I’m not one hundred percent _together_ all the time, but I don’t think anybody is, and I’m trying to work on the things I can work on. And I think- if I went back to the show… as long as I had a safe place in you, where I’m just _myself_ , then maybe it won’t be so bad. And I’m grateful that I have my _badass_ girlfriend to save me from invasive reporters when they won’t leave me alone.”

“Always at your service, _ma’am._ ” Camila jokes around, before she grabs a menu and announces, “We should probably figure out what we want to eat. I know what I’m wanting for _dessert_ , anyway.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at Lauren over her menu, and the older girl blushes, laughing and smiling that gorgeously goofy smile again. “You know, I think that _might_ just be available.”

Camila grins. “Better be, baby. I’ve got a serious craving here.”

Lauren sends her an elusive smile over her own menu. “You’ll just have to wait and see, Camz.”


	24. Chapter 24

Lauren

“Alright. Award show.” Camila says, and Lauren glances over at her from the driver’s seat. “I’m going to an _award_ show tomorrow. With _Lauren Jauregui_.”

“Alright, don’t be weird, it’s not a big deal,” Lauren rolls her eyes, skipping the song that’s playing in favour of _Pressure_ by Paramore. “You’ve had this information in your head for multiple days now, I’d have thought it’d have sunk in.”

“Nope,” Camila easily replies, and Lauren can feel her gaze on her as she drives. “Sometimes it’s all still fucking surreal. Like, this is my life now? _You’re_ my girlfriend? Back in August I literally had a fan account for you, and now I’m your date to an award show. That’s so fucking _weird_. You have to admit it.”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “I mean… yeah, it _is_ kind of weird, but… _still._ You should be used to it by now.”

“I told you, most of the time I literally _forget_ that you played Vanessa, or that you’re an actress in general, because I pretty much just see you as my _beautiful girlfriend Lauren_. And then I remember and the whole situation just hits me and it’s like… what the fuck even _is_ my life,” Camila laughs, before she picks up Lauren’s phone and asks, “anyway, can I put a song on?”

“After this one, it’s my favourite Paramore song,” Lauren dismisses her, and she sings along as she drives, hyperaware of the way Camila is looking at her. Cutting herself off halfway through the second verse, she glances over at the younger girl, “ _What_?”

“It annoys me that you’re so good at singing and you’re not _pursuing_ it,” Camila sends her the cutest scowl. “You realise I’m going to force you to sing on every project I have to do that requires a singer, right?”

Lauren rolls her eyes, ignoring the words all together. “Have you posted our song yet?”

“I actually did it last night.” Camila tells her, “I’ll text you the link so you can give me that view.”

“Text it to me now,” Lauren tells her, and when she spies a gas station up ahead, she figures she might as well pull in there to take a quick break from driving and buy some snacks. “I’m going to stop at that gas station there.”

Camila looks at her like she’s an idiot. “You drive a Tesla, you don’t need gas.”

“For _snacks_ , dumbass,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “the car might doesn’t need fuel, but I do.”

Camila just laughs at her, and when the Paramore song ends, she immediately grabs Lauren’s phone again, “can I change the song now?”

“My password is 060614,” Lauren tells her, trusting Camila entirely, “don’t put anything _weird_ on.”

“I won’t,” Camila laughs, and she immediately goes to Lauren’s music app and puts the song into the search bar. She’s quiet for a moment, before _The Lucky One_ by Taylor Swift starts to play through the speakers in Lauren’s car, and Camila asks, “060614. Any significance to that number?”

Lauren raises her eyebrows as she pulls into the gas station, driving past the pumps and parking out of the way. “Surprised you don’t know.”

“I have an _idea_ , but…” Camila shrugs, “don’t want to sound like I was an obsessive stalker fan.”

“I already know that you _were_ an obsessive stalker fan,” Lauren teases her, “I think I would’ve started avoiding you by this point if it bothered me.”

“Shut up,” Camila rolls her eyes, “but… is it the date of your first day on set?”

“Yep,” Lauren says, and as she turns a corner and pulls into a gas station, she turns to Camila with a small, teasing smile, “see? Knew you were a stalker. Bet you knew that I have it tattooed on my arm, too.”

“Shut _up_ , it’s on the season one DVD bonus content, and I know about the tattoo because I’ve seen your arms quite a few times. Seen a _lot_ of you quite a few times,” Camila defends herself as Lauren just laughs at her, “it’s not like… not like I _looked_ it up just to know it, it’s just something I heard.”

“Mhm, on the bonus content of the DVD which is basically only for the obsessed stalkers,” Lauren teases her, laughing lightly at Camila’s petulant pout. She leans over and kisses her cheek, “I’m only messing with you. Now, what snacks do you want?”

“Oreos, please. If they have them. Oh, and potato chips. You pick the flavour.” Camila says, and as Lauren goes to get out of her car, the younger Latina grabs her by the arm, “Wait, how long do we have to go?”

“Only an hour,” Lauren assures her, “the drive has gone a lot faster with you in the car with me. When I drove back when we had our argument, it literally felt like I was on the road for years, but then because I was so fucked up, it _also_ felt like I’d just teleported. Weird.”

Camila pouts. “I was _so_ stressed when you just disappeared.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” Lauren apologises, leaning forwards and pulling her in for a kiss, “alright, I’ll be five minutes.”

She gets out of the car and heads into the gas station, immediately going to the potato chips and grabbing a bag of barbecue flavoured Lays. On her way to the checkout, she grabs a pack of Oreos for them to share, too. She looks back at her car; Camila is on her phone, unaware that Lauren is looking at her as she waits in line to pay, and the older girl finds herself thinking about how beautiful she is; she knows Camila is going to look _phenomenal_ tomorrow, and Lauren is fully okay with the idea that her girlfriend could upstage her. When a text comes through on her phone, she figures it’s just Camila, and that she’d actually spotted her looking and texted her something about being a creeper, but it’s just a link to the song they’d done. She copies the link and quickly composes a tweet.

 **@LaurenJauregui** Hello my loves! Sorry I haven’t been on here for a while, been really busy with college stuff. But speaking of college stuff, I actually did a lil collab with a friend of mine for her music project. Here’s the link, check it out if you’re interested! youtube.com/kccabello

Before she closes the app again, she answers a couple of other tweets from fans, pretty much ignoring anything that refers to her relationships with Camila, Lucy, or anyone _else_ that they feel the need to ship her with.

 **@softlmj** _@LaurenJauregui_ omg please tell me you’re not just gonna log off immediately after posting your 1 monthly tweet talk to us!!!  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@softlmj_ Standing in line buying snacks, so I can answer some of your cute questions until I have to pay, then I gotta get back in my car, driving down to L.A. for the Golden Globes/SAG Awards

 **@jaurebisexual** _@LaurenJauregui_ Okay so like can you confirm this because… some people are still apparently convinced you were hacked and someone else wrote that long ass post… you ARE bisexual, right????  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@jaurebisexual_ Are you just asking bc you wanna know if your username needs changing?? But no, wasn’t a hack, I’m bisexual, promise :)

 **@camrenvives** _@LaurenJauregui_ How is college? Pretty sure I speak for the entirety of Silverhollow stan twitter when I say that we all miss you sm but I really hope you’re happy and we’re all glad that you’ve obviously got a good relationship with your friend Camila  
**@LaurenJauregui** _@camrenvives_ College is alright. I miss you babies too! Need to make an effort to come on here more tbh, mostly I just stick to Instagram. And I’m probably the happiest I’ve been in years, and part of that is because of what Camila and I have, so I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear that the fans like her! :)

That’s the only tweet she replies to concerning Camila; mostly because she’d spied the username, and figures that _Camren_ is their official ship name. But in part, she wanted to emphasise how happy Camila makes her, before the _real_ storm happens when Lauren admits that they’re a couple. She needs the fans to know that Camila is the best thing that’s ever happened to her, in the hopes that it’ll be some kind of buffer when _those_ fans get upset that she’s not with Lucy.

She doesn’t know how Camila had made her so calm about this whole award show thing; while Lauren isn’t bothered by the idea of going up on stage to collect the award if she wins it, she _is_ bothered about all the photographers and screaming fans that like to show up. She thinks she’s _partially_ okay because of how Camila had said she’d wanted to support her, or how she’d talked about how she’d always stay in to watch award shows if she knew that Lauren was going to them, to support her if she was nominated, and to cheer for her if she won.

And Lauren had remembered that she _is_ nominated, which is why she _has_ to go, but still. A fucking _Golden Globe._ Even though she usually doesn’t care whether she wins or loses, it’s a _Golden Globe._ Besides, she’d felt like she could handle whatever shit people throw at her if she had Camila by her side. So she’d called up the network, and double checked that she had plus one, before informing them that her _girlfriend_ would be accompanying her.

As she pays for her snacks, the cashier seems to be sizing her up, and when she’s putting her card back into her wallet, he asks, “Aren’t you from that murder show on HBO?”

Seeing her opportunity, Lauren pulls a confused expression and replies, “no.”

He frowns. “Lauren something-or-other. Right?”

She maintains her confusion and asks, “Who’s Lauren?” and he seems to accept her word at face value. Smiling to herself as she heads back to the car, she gets back into the driver’s side and passes Camila her Oreos. “Here you go. I want some of those too!”

“Of course,” Camila assures her, as Lauren puts her seatbelt on. She opens up the pack of Oreos, and Lauren holds her hand out as if to say _give me it_. “What? The first one? _Really_?”

Lauren sends her a mock pout, “Oh, _Lauren, I appreciate you so much for driving all this way, you must be so tired, the least I could do is give you my first Oreo…”_

Camila rolls her eyes, and reluctantly lets her take the first one, “You’re so extra.”

Lauren bites into the cookie, eating it in two bites, before she wipes her hand on Camila’s arm, the tips of her fingers covered in a little Oreo dust. “That’s what you get, asshole.”

She starts the car again, and Camila hijacks her music again, even when Lauren asks her to put _The 1975_ on. After a few pouts and the occasional puppy dog eyes, Camila finally caves, playing _She’s American_ , and Lauren sings along as she pulls out of the gas station and back onto the highway.

“Alright, I’ll let you pick the next song after this, and then I will be dictating it until we get to L.A.” Camila warns her. “Where are we staying, by the way?”

“With Lucy and Vero. They have a spare room,” Lauren tells her, “used to be my bedroom, actually. I lived with Lucy for a little while when we were filming season one, up until it started airing, and _then_ I moved in with Luis, since he was my boyfriend at the time and we’d been together for like, almost a year. After that I just sort of bounced around different places. I can’t really handle living alone.”

“You live alone now,” Camila states the obvious, “why do it if you know you hate it?”

“Because I didn’t know anyone at Stanford that I could live with, and it’s not like I could’ve begged any of my friends to come up there for a year just so I didn’t have to be lonely. Besides, I figured I’d meet people, and I have,” Lauren shrugs, “sleeping alone some nights doesn’t matter when I know I can spend the night at my girlfriend’s if I asked.”

Camila leans over and kisses her cheek, and Lauren _really_ has to focus on the road after that. “Is this the longest you’ve ever lived alone?”

Lauren hums in affirmation. “Yep. Lived with my parents until I was seventeen, obviously. Then Lucy when we were filming and when season one started, then my ex-boyfriend Luis, then I _tried_ living alone and eventually snapped and made the stupid decision of moving in with Keaton, who I’d literally dated for two months, and _then_ when that fell apart I lived with Vero for a bit, then lived alone again in that apartment when Vero moved in with Lucy. And then I moved in with a different ex-boyfriend because… reasons, then with Keana, and then I came up to college.”

“You can always call me when you get lonely. I like coming over to your place, to be honest.” Camila assures her. “You don’t have Dinah aggressively playing her music from her speaker at all hours of the day. _And_ I can make out with you.”

Lauren snorts in amusement, and as they get towards the outskirts of L.A. she turns the GPS off; she knows her way from here. “Obviously the making out is the only asset.”

Camila laughs. “Of course. No, seriously, I really like coming over to your place, because there are no nosy friends to invade on our privacy. I get to have you, completely unfiltered, and _that_ ’s the Lauren I adore. _My_ Lauren, not… not the one the whole world gets to see.”

It makes Lauren’s heart jump and her stomach flutter, because she’s _never_ been told that before. She’s always so used to people wanting to spend time with her _because_ of the person she’s portrayed as, the totally put-together actress, and she’s pretty much been broken into believing that the _actress_ descriptor is her entire worth as a person. Even though she _knows_ it’s not true, hearing that from the woman she’s in love with is everything to her. It _means_ everything.

“I- that means so much to me, and you won’t know _why_ , but…” Lauren reaches over blindly, keeping focused on the road as she squeezes Camila’s hand, “but thank you. It means a lot for you to say that.”

“It means a lot to _me_ that you’re comfortable enough with me to open up the way you do.” Camila murmurs, and Lauren’s stomach flutters when Camila kisses the back of her hand, “even though I was an obsessed stalker.”

Lauren laughs. “You know I don’t _actually_ think that, right?”

“I know, I know,” Camila replies, reaching across and brushing Lauren’s hair back, tousling it, “but I _do_ feel a little weird about how I knew so much stuff about you when we first started talking. I _actually_ felt like a stalker, but how was I supposed to know I’d end up _dating_ you when I started stanning?”

Lauren snorts in amusement. “Was _anything_ I told you actually new information?”

“Yeah! Your piano playing, I never knew about that. And, you know, obviously the whole _bisexual_ thing.” Camila points out, and quickly adds, “ _oh_ , and that story about you stealing the candy by accident when you were little. Now pick a song before I take over.”

“I’ll stick with my theme from before I let you hijack it,” Lauren comments, “ _Idle Worship_ by Paramore. You should tweet a link to that on your fan account and tell people to take notes.”

Camila plays the song, and snacks on another Oreo, occasionally fussing over Lauren and playing with her hair. “Are we there yet?”

“Soon,” Lauren assures her, and she nods towards her phone. “If you’re so bored you can play around on my phone, since yours died.”

“Thanks, babe,” Camila grabs it, unlocking it and flicking through the various pages of her home screen, “What games do you have?”

“Um… Words With Friends is the main one,” Lauren admits, and she knows it’s a little lame, but she’s actually the reigning champ in her battle against Keana. “You can play it if you want, but don’t play the game with Keana. I’m on a consecutive winning streak that’s lasted six months, and if you play and beat her too, it’ll kind of break that. But feel free to kick Lucy’s ass. She only plays because I forced her to and she’s pretty pathetic at it. Just tries to make as many bad words as she can. Once every couple of games she always plays the word _fuck_.”

“You’re so cute,” Camila murmurs, leaning over and kissing her cheek before she opens the game and looks at the tiles and tries to think of a good word to play, “alright, I’ll play. Tell me a story while I think of a word.”

Lauren frowns. “What kind of story?”

“Any kind. As long as it’s got you in it,” Camila says, frowning down at the phone, before she remembers how she planned on dictating the music for the rest of the car journey, and cuts off _Rose Coloured Boy_ in favour of _Kiss Me_ by Ed Sheeran. “Something I won’t have heard in like, an interview or whatever.”

“You watched my interviews? Damn, you really _were_ in deep,” Lauren teases her, trying to think of something she’s never told in an interview; she’d used up all of her best stories, like the story where she stole from the Disney store when she was five, but she’s sure she can think of something equally as interesting. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What about… tell me about your first day on set,” Camila says, playing the word _fickle_ and closing the game, “surely that had to have been fun?”

“More terrifying, than anything. Felt like a total nobody,” Lauren laughs, “everyone else had worked before, and I’d seen some of the things they’d been in. It was just me and Lucy who were total randoms that nobody had ever heard of, so we pretty much stuck together because of that. I was _super_ intimidated by Keana, since she was probably the most well-known of the whole cast.”

Camila laughs. “And now she’s like one of your best friends.”

“Yeah,” Lauren snorts in amusement, “she was actually one of the first people on set I befriended. Pretty sure her first words to me were _so we’re supposed to hate each other.”_

“Cute,” Camila smiles, “if I walked up to someone and said that, they’d think I was crazy.”

“They wouldn’t be wrong,” Lauren teases her, and Camila shoves her playfully, “hey! Trying to focus on the road here.”

“Alright, fine!” Camila laughs. “I’ll be the silent DJ for the rest of the car ride.”

She doesn’t keep her promise; eventually Camila starts to talk about stupid things she did in middle school, like the time she thought sending a girl anonymous love notes would be a good idea and she was completely fucked over by a guy coming forward and claiming _he_ wrote them, totally _stealing her girl_.

By the time they get to Lucy and Vero’s apartment building and pull up in the parking garage, they’ve both shared a number of embarrassing stories; Camila’s including the time she thought it would be a good idea to produce a one-woman version of _High School Musical_ and invite her parents to film it, and Lauren’s including the time she was doing two auditions in the same day and she walked into the room and started auditioning with the _wrong_ script. Needless to say she didn’t get that part.

They get the elevator up from the parking garage, and Lauren heads to her old apartment, always a little nostalgic when she comes back here. Sometimes, she regrets moving out, and she’d only really _done_ it because she was freaked out by all the Laucy shippers coming to the conclusion that obviously they were together if they _lived_ together, and at that point she was still in her whole _I’m straight_ phase.

She knocks on the door, and Vero is the one who answers, pulling her in for a hug. “Lo, hey! Missed you, asshole.”

“Missed you too,” Lauren hugs her back, before she remembers her courtesies and pulls away, pulling Camila forwards, “this is Camila. She’s my girlfriend.”

Camila blinks in surprise, like she hadn’t expected her to introduce her as her girlfriend, but why would she hide around her best friends? They don’t even hide in _public,_ and Lucy had known that Lauren was _crushing_ on her even when she didn’t want to admit it.

“Nice one, Lo,” Vero comments, loud enough for Camila to hear. Lauren blushes embarrassedly as Camila says hi and gets greeted with a big hug; Vero has no qualms being friendly with complete strangers, and she’s pretty much known on set as being the best with the fans. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Vero, Lucy’s girlfriend – you’ve met her, right?”

“Yeah,” Camila looks a little stunned, and when Vero pulls away from her, Lauren takes her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “Yeah, I met Lucy when she came up to visit Lauren.”

“Anyway, I’m going to show Camila to the guest room,” Lauren prefaces, “Is Lucy not around?”

“She ran out to get some popcorn and to meet Keana, we’re going to watch a movie,” Vero tells her, “ _and_ you’re going to tell me everything. I haven’t seen you since you showed up here all depressed.”

Preferring that Vero _didn’t_ get into that, Lauren pretty much drags Camila towards her old bedroom. “Alright, I promise I’ll catch you up.”

Before she can properly make her escape, Vero adds, “and you _have_ to tell me how your awkward ass got a girl _that_ hot.”

“Okay, _bye_ ,” Lauren pulls Camila into her old room, shutting the door behind them. She leans against it, letting out a loud sigh and rolling her eyes, “please tell her that I was totally smooth and I _wooed_ you.”

Camila snorts in amusement, sitting down on the edge of Lauren’s old bed and dropping her backpack on the floor. “Or I could tell her that you turned into a cute little giggly baby any time _I_ flirted with you.”

“I- _no_ ,” Lauren scowls at her, finally dropping her old overnight bag on the floor by the bed and flopping back down on it, missing just how _comfortable_ this bed always was. In L.A., this was the place she always felt the most _at home_.

Camila rolls over, pulling her close, and Lauren sighs happily, melting into the younger girl’s touch. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

Lauren shuffles over, so her head is rested on the pillow and her girlfriend’s soft brown eyes are locked with hers. “No.”

Camila laughs, reaching out to play with Lauren’s hair. “Why not? You could win an award! Do you have your acceptance speech ready?”

“It’s not that, I just hate all the picture taking when you’re walking the carpet. The flashes are too bright and every single photographer is yelling at you to look at _them_ , and it’s just really overwhelming.” Lauren sighs, and when Camila kisses the tip of her nose, she squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a little frustrated whine. “Don’t try to make me all giggly. I’m trying to be miserable right now.”

“Don’t _try_ to be miserable,” Camila states the obvious, fingers weaving through Lauren’s hair comfortingly, “I’ll be there with you, to make you feel better if you _do_ happen to get overwhelmed. And when you win your award, I’ll be there cheering you on.”

“I doubt I’ll win, there are so many better actors in the same category,” Lauren shrugs, “And honestly, I don’t act because I want to win awards for being the best at it. I act because I love it.”

Camila kisses her properly, and Lauren’s hand finds her waist, pulling her closer on the bed. When the younger girl pulls away, she smiles and tells her, “It’s _because_ you do it because you love it that _wins_ you the awards. You’re so amazing at it because you have that passion, and we all know you’re _definitely_ not in it for the fame. For you, the fame is a negative consequence.”

Thankful that she understands, that Camila _cares_ about her this much, Lauren pulls her in for another kiss before she sits up and stretches. “Alright, I’m getting in my pyjamas. I don’t plan on leaving this apartment until tomorrow.”

Camila laughs, and stays comfortable on Lauren’s old bed as the older girl changes, unapologetic about her staring, but Lauren doesn’t care; she likes that Camila has that kind of reaction to her body.

Once she’s gotten herself comfortable, she stretches and says. “Alright, let me go gossip with my friends. In all seriousness, I think I heard Lucy come in, so I should go say hi. I’ll let you get changed.”

“Alright.” Camila smiles, rooting around her backpack and throwing her pyjamas onto the bed. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay,” Lauren squeezes her hand before she heads out of the room, closing the door behind her, and feeling incredibly grateful that Camila cared enough to come with her.

Camila

She’s kind of intimidated by all of them.

She knows it’s stupid, because Lauren is her _girlfriend_ , but seeing her with Lucy, Keana and Vero is just _surreal_. And it’s not like any of them are total divas, either. They’re all so sweet, and Vero and Keana ask her questions about herself, and make her feel genuinely included.

“ _You_ asked _Lo_ out, right? Because I’m pretty sure we all know she’s too much of a pussy to ask you out.” Vero says, and Lauren lets out an indignant _hey_ and shoves her. “What? We all know it’s true.”

“Yeah, I asked her out, even though I was totally shitting myself at the thought. It was like, _right_ after we made up.” Camila explains, kissing the top of Lauren’s head as she snuggles up to her. “And then she got all giggly and cute and-”

“Don’t expose me,” Lauren pouts, before she blurts out, “Lucy was useless when it came to asking _Vero_ out, so…”

Lucy sends her an offended look. “Hey, I wasn’t the one teasing you, don’t drag me into this.”

“And then there’s me, single and alone,” Keana dramatically replies, “you can never meet anyone decent nowadays.”

Vero snorts. “Try Tinder.”

“Thought about it, but _then_ I figured I’d end up getting matched with some serial killer,” Keana laughs, “which isn’t really the _best_ way to have a date night, getting murdered in someone’s basement.”

“Tinder is pretty much just for hook-ups anyway,” Camila tries to push down any nerves and awkwardness she still feels, “I tried it after I got dumped, but didn’t find anyone I had a proper connection with. It was like that for a while, and I had this total paranoia that I’d been dropped by my soulmate, until I met Lauren.”

Lauren blushes. “I’m your soulmate?”

“Obviously,” Camila kisses the top of her head again, and if anything, Lauren nuzzles closer to her, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lauren smiles, before she makes grabby hands at Keana and announces, “pass me the popcorn.”

Keana raises her eyebrows. “That’s new. Thought you liked to eat as little as possible the day before events.”

“Don’t care anymore, gimme,” Lauren announces, and when Keana passes her the bowl, she gets as much as she can fit in her hand and shovels it into her mouth. “Love popcorn.”

Camila laughs, having some herself, and she’s perfectly comfortable until Lucy gets up and looks at Lauren, “I’m going for a joint. You coming?”

Lauren glances at Camila, almost like’s waiting for _permission_ or approval, and Camila just sends her a soft smile. Even though she _hates_ smoking, she knows it’s Lauren’s choice, so she says, “it’s up to you if you want one, babe.”

Lauren smiles, pressing a kiss to her cheek and pushing herself up from the couch. “Okay. Just a couple of drags.”

As they head out onto Lucy’s balcony, Camila figures she’ll just play on her phone, but Keana says, “thank you for making her so happy,” and it takes Camila completely off guard.

She frowns. “What?”

“Lauren,” Keana specifies, glancing towards the double doors of the balcony to make sure they’re shut, “I can’t remember the last time I saw her this happy, so… thank you for making that happen.”

Camila blinks in surprise, “Oh. Well, I knew she was _happier_ , but I didn’t think it was that dramatic of a change…”

“We were actually really worried about her. Especially when she told us she was going to go to college,” Vero explains, “we figured she’d be better off just doing what her parents wanted and going back to Miami for a year. And when she came back in October to do the reshoots it made us worry even _more._ ”

“She’s so much happier now,” Keana adds, “and we know that at least _part_ of that is because of you, so just… thanks. Because we were really worried for her.”

“Oh, well…” Camila shrugs, even though she’s so happy that she could make Lauren feel even a _fraction_ happier, “I’m glad I could do that for her. I honestly just want to see her smile.”

Almost as if on cue, Lauren comes back in from the balcony. Lucy is still out there smoking, but when Lauren pounces on Camila, she doesn’t smell, and when she kisses her, Camila can’t taste it on her lips.

Lauren pulls away, flashing her that smile she loves so much. “Hey. Changed my mind, wanted to cuddle instead. I only really smoke when I’m upset anyway, and I’m not upset at all, so…”

Camila pulls her back in for another kiss. “Proud of you, baby.”

Keana shoots her a look that reads _see what I mean?_ Camila just smiles back, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, and hoping that the award show tomorrow doesn’t completely mess up Lauren’s good mood.


	25. Chapter 25

Lauren

She never smiles on the red carpet.

She doesn’t know if it’s a subtle dig to the paparazzi who love selling pictures of her to the press, or if it’s because she wants to convey just how much she _hates_ this kind of thing, how much she _doesn’t_ want to be _worshipped_ the way people tend to worship her. But she never, ever smiles on red carpets.

Camila is really testing her patience with that, though. She keeps whispering subtle jokes into Lauren’s ear, and just being all around pretty amazing, which makes it a lot harder for Lauren to focus on keeping her resting bitch face up. Because when Camila tells a joke, it’s like Lauren’s _job_ to laugh at it.

But she manages to pull through. She knows she’ll be smiling in a couple of pictures, and that’s a couple more than she’d usually be smiling in, but people will probably be able to tell that it’s _not_ because of how _happy she is to be there._ That it’s because of Camila, and her dorky jokes.

The interviews, however, she has to act a certain way. Lauren has a specific public persona; there’s a difference between Lauren, and _Lauren Jauregui._ While Lauren is kind of a nerdy, awkward, anxious little baby who has no idea what she’s doing, _Lauren Jauregui_ is calm, cool and collected one hundred percent of the time, and _totally_ knows what she’s doing.

So when she’s beckoned over for her first interview in months, she puts on that act, but still drags Camila over with her. She recognises the reporter; it’s Chelsea Briggs, and Lauren has been interviewed by her a couple of times, which makes her feel a little more comfortable.

She asks the regular kind of questions, mostly fan tweets and stuff that people would want to know, like why she’d left the show, how she felt about her character’s ending, and thankfully she _doesn’t_ mention how Lauren was _outed_ , but instead compliments her on the points she’d made in her coming out post. But she’s still totally off guard when Chelsea asks, “so, a lot of the fans asked me to ask you if- well, do you guys know who _Camren_ is?”

While Lauren doesn’t really know what to say, Camila, who had mostly been quietly holding Lauren’s hand, laughs out loud, “Oh, that’s like our relationship, right?”

She’s relieved that Camila had answered, because Lauren knows that her blank silence is an obvious giveaway. Chelsea rolls with it, and asks, “Is that weird, that the fans ship you guys?”

Camila shrugs. “I mean, as a fan myself, I can understand why people ship stuff, because a lot of the time they just want to see representation in the person they look up to and the people they have like, some kind of natural chemistry with, so… I don’t really care if people want to ship me with Lauren. Whatever rocks their boat.”

Her heart flutters at the way Camila articulates herself, but she’s quick to put her public mask back on and corrects Camila, “whatever _floats_ their boat.”

“Well, whatever,” Camila shoves her playfully, and Lauren shoves her back, “damn, violence from the Grammar Queen.”

Lauren laughs, and when Camila throws an arm around her shoulders, she relaxes into the touch and smiles at the camera behind Chelsea. “Can’t help it, it’s just a reflex to correct everyone. But yeah, to answer your question about the shipping, I’m at a point in my life where I understand _why_ fans do that kind of thing, and as long as they don’t cross any lines, I don’t mind.”

“Okay, we only have time for one more question, and it’s probably the one that most people want to know the answer to,” Chelsea prefaces, “so, we know that you’re _not_ going to be in season four, but is season five completely off the table? A lot of fans are holding out hope and Vanessa is a fan favourite…”

“Um, I haven’t really decided on anything right now, but I’m not completely ruling it out,” Lauren answers, because it’s the only answer she can really _give._ “I just want to spend some time working on myself, and I want to put all of my energy into finishing my degree.”

As they move on to the next interviewer, Camila squeezes her hand comfortingly, murmuring, “Proud of you, baby,” under her breath.

This interviewer is _less_ respectful, and asks about the _nature_ of their relationship, to which Lauren replies with, “that’s really none of your business. What’s your relationship you’re your cameraman there? Are _you_ guys dating?” It’s the first time she’s ever outwardly rejected a question; usually if she’s uncomfortable she just awkwardly brushes it off, but if she’s going to work on her anxiety in these settings, sticking up for herself is important.

Again, Camila squeezes her hand, and Lauren can practically feel the proudness radiating from her. At Lauren’s snarky response, the interviewer quickly switches subjects to _Silverhollow_ and whether or not Lauren will return to the show, and she just recycles the response she’d used for Chelsea.

“And how does it feel to be nominated for a Golden Globe?” The interviewer asks, and Lauren doesn’t really _know_ how she feels but she tells them what they want to hear. She’s especially talented at calculating the right answers to the questions interviewers throw at her. A perfect mixture of excited, proud and humble generally works.

But it takes her off guard completely when he continues, “and rumour has it, you’re to be submitted by HBO for an Emmy nomination.”

A Golden Globe is one thing, but an _Emmy_? She blinks in surprise, because she hadn’t heard _anything_ about that, and it takes her a few seconds to answer with, “I’m not entirely sure about that, because it’s a little early for Emmy nominations right now, but I mean, I’d be _incredibly_ honoured if that _is_ the case. Even being here tonight is still crazy and surreal to me, and it’s a huge compliment to even be considered for any kind of award.”

When they move on, the show’s PR team are quick to separate her from Camila, desperate for some group shots of the cast, since the show as a whole is nominated for an award as well. Lauren squeezes herself between Keana and Vero, but instead of looking at the cameras, she finds her gaze wandering over to Camila, who is stood to the side, looking so incredibly beautiful that Lauren doesn’t mind that she’s definitely upstaging her.

It’s hard not to smile when she looks at her, so she forces her gaze back to the cameras; about ten different people are calling their names, telling them to look at _their_ camera, but Lauren’s eyes already hurt from the flashing, so she stays stony-faced and impassive until they’re allowed to move on, and she quickly backtracks to walk with her girlfriend.

“Are you feeling okay?” Camila asks her, looking genuinely concerned, and it’s such a breath of fresh air in an environment where people care more about getting the best photograph of her than her actual _wellbeing._ “You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m alright for now, but thank you for being so sweet,” Lauren says to her, trying to let go of her worries and _not_ care; at any kind of event that she’s attending with the rest of the cast, she’s usually hyperaware of everything she’s doing because she _knows_ that other people are watching her every move.

That’s the worst thing about having an anxiety disorder when you’re _famous._ As a regular person, even though anxiety always tells you that everyone is watching what you’re doing and thinking you’re _weird_ for it, it’s not actually _true_ , and that worry is generally just a _worry._ But for Lauren, it’s a reality. She’s hyperaware of everything she does because she knows that there are fans out there, watching her on a live stream, analysing every move she makes and making them mean more than they actually _do._

Even though she’s her best friend, it’s why she avoids interacting with Lucy at events like this. She generally sticks with Keana and Vero, because she knows that if she so much as _looks_ at Lucy for a second too long, the fans will blow it out of proportion.

 _But you’re trying to get better,_ Lauren reminds herself when she worries too much, _you’re trying to get over that anxiety, because even though the fans aren’t going to stop overanalysing your every action,_ you _need to stop worrying about it._

She’s still clutching onto Camila’s hand, because she promised herself that she’d be brave in that respect; hell, if she _wins_ , she’s going to completely announce that Camila is her girlfriend, but she doesn’t actually think she has a chance in hell of winning, not when she’s up against so many other talented actresses.

But deciding to take another step in making herself feel better, she tugs Camila forwards and matches pace with Lucy. “Hey.”

Lucy looks surprised that they’re talking, especially out where all the photographers are, but she smiles and replies, “Hey, guys. Camila, are you enjoying your first ever award show?”

“I feel like I’m having some kind of out of body experience right now,” Camila jokes, and Lauren can understand that, “but yeah, I guess that’s enjoyment in a weird kind of way.”

When the first of the photographers notice that they’re together, they start calling for pictures, so Lauren drops Camila’s hand for a few minutes and gives them what they want; she knows that _Laucy_ pictures sell well.

But, naturally, she gravitates back to her girlfriend in minutes, grabbing her hand again and locking their fingers together. “Okay, so, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Camila replies, and when they’re finally ushered inside, Lauren lets her mask slip a little. Camila smiles at her in total adoration, and if there was any doubt in her mind that Camila loves her for _her_ , and not for the person she _pretends_ to be, it would’ve been completely wiped out.

But there was never any doubt to begin with. Camila is one of the only people who sees the _real_ Lauren; the anxious, awkward nerd who is a little too obsessed with Paramore and _American Horror Story_ and _Game of Thrones_ and theatre and musicals and _anything_ to do with the art of acting, and she loves her for it.

“You know, if I’d never met you, I would’ve been at home streaming the _shit_ out of this right now,” Camila laughs, and her eyes rake over Lauren’s body; she’s wearing a tight black dress that hugs her curves and accents all of her best assets, and the makeup artists that had swarmed Lucy’s apartment all day had spent hours on Lauren’s makeup, as opposed to the usual ten minutes she spends on it regularly. “And I would’ve been obsessively tweeting about how hot you look and _wishing_ I was your girlfriend. Now I _am_ your girlfriend… and I’m still obsessing over how hot you are right now. How hot you are _all_ the time, should I say.”

“That might be the case, but you’re still upstaging me,” Lauren says with total sincerity, “and I’m one _hundred_ percent okay with that, because I get to drool over you all night. Might post a couple of tweets about it later, actually.”

Camila laughs, and she squeezes Lauren’s hand comfortingly, “Even though I know my perspective was completely different, you definitely seem so much more… _comfortable_ to be here.”

“That’s acting for you, baby,” Lauren sarcastically replies, but she _does_ kind of understand what Camila means. Compared to the last time she’d been to a similar event; the Teen Choice Awards in August, she feels a lot less anxious. There’s still the niggling worries at the back of her mind, and she _is_ using a lot of effort to keep said worries back there, but it’s a lot less _taxing_ to do so. But she most definitely fluctuates between _not_ giving a fuck and giving _all_ the fucks.

“Seriously, it would be different if I didn’t have you here with me for moral support. I know I have my friends and everything, but they’re focused on their own interviews and photos, and I can’t really talk to Lucy at events like this because the fans blow it out of proportion,” Lauren tells her, because Camila being here is like a safety blanket for her. She’s grateful to have that for her first couple of events of the year; going in alone would’ve sent her anxiety skyrocketing. “But that’s why I talked to her just then, and got some photos of just the two of us. To sort of… _let_ the fans speculate, so I can _not_ care about it. Does that make sense?”

Camila laughs. “Sort of. You want to let them talk about the whole Laucy thing, but you don’t want to think about it yourself. So if you throw them a bone, they’re not… putting you guys under a microscope, because you’re literally _giving_ them something to focus on.”

“Yeah, pretty much, because it’s always the overanalysis of my every action that freaked me out. Because while _I_ was hyperaware of all my insecurities, the fact that other people were looking at me like that as well really freaked me out.” Lauren tries to explain, and when they’re finally ushered to their seats, she smooths out her dress and sits down, Camila next to her. “Anyway… I’ve been holding your hand like _all_ night, so even if I don’t win, I think the fans will get the message.”

“I’m pretty sure you just have to look at my face to realise how in love with you I am,” Camila murmurs, and after a few seconds of hesitation, she kisses Lauren on the cheek.

Vero snorts in amusement to Lauren’s left. “Wow, get a room.”

“You say that like she literally just started tearing my clothes off,” Lauren elbows her, “it was a kiss on the cheek, some people would even consider that _platonic_.”

“But that’s not the message we’re trying to send,” Camila laughs, taking Lauren’s hand again and tangling their fingers together. “We’re pretty much holding a massive neon sign above our heads saying that we’re in love.”

“And yet people still think you’re secretly married to _my_ girl,” Vero elbows Lauren back, “anyway, good luck tonight, weirdo.”

“Good luck to _all_ of us,” Lauren says, “the whole show is nominated, not just me.”

“I think we’re _all_ nominated,” Camila mutters beside her, and Lauren snorts with laughter at the joke, “but you are _so_ cute for being like that. But you’re so cute in general.”

Lauren smiles, squeezing her hand, and she takes note of the cameras that are constantly scanning over the crowd, zooming in on certain people, so she knows she has to keep _some_ semblance of her _public persona_ up, even if she wants to just completely let the professionalism go and make the mask slip off, and just cuddle up next to her girlfriend, spending the whole evening with her head on her shoulder.

But she settles for holding her hand under the table as the show starts, comforted by even the smallest of Camila’s touches.

Camila

It’s still pretty fucking surreal that she’s sat here with Lauren at the _Silverhollow_ table at the fucking _Golden Globes._ She’s not sure what’s _more_ shocking; the fact that she’s constantly surrounded by the realisation that _this_ is Lauren’s life, and that college is a _break_ for her, or the fact that she’s sat at the _Golden Globes_.

Probably the latter; she’d known that Lauren’s life was like this, because she’s an internationally recognised actress, and that’s not going to change just because Camila doesn’t see her like that anymore.

When _Silverhollow’s_ category comes out, naturally, they win, and the whole cast goes up on stage to collect the award. It’s the directors who have the spotlight for the speech, and Camila doesn’t really pay attention to what they’re saying. Instead, she’s too busy watching Lauren from her seat, and on the outside, the older girl looks completely fine. Camila knows that if _she_ had to go up on that stage, she’d most definitely vomit. That’s one of the things that freaks her out, going up in front of people. Even if she knows she’s prepared for it, like a presentation in class or something, it definitely makes her feel sick.

She claps with the rest of the crowd as the cast and crew members who were invited leave the stage and come sit back down; so far, the night has been kind of a blur, but Camila knows that Lauren’s category is coming up soon.

When the older girl sits down next to her, she’s not smiling. She hasn’t smiled much tonight, but Camila knows from all the old fan pictures that used to have her swooning that she never really smiles in pictures like that; if fans wanted cute, smiley pictures from Lauren, they’d have to wait until she posted her own selfie on Instagram.

But when she meets Camila’s gaze, the mask slips for a second, and she sends her the softest, most adoring smile. “Hi.”

“Hey, baby,” Camila murmurs, “knew the show would win.”

Lauren blushes. “Well, I wouldn’t know, I’ve never seen it.”

Camila smiles, holding out her hand. “Your category is coming up soon. Know you’re going to win.”

Lauren takes her hand again, tangling their fingers together. “You have a lot of faith in me.”

“Well, I’m your number one fan, remember,” Camila teases her, and Lauren lets out a low chuckle at the words as the next category is announced and the two people presenting it come on stage. She stays quiet, and politely claps when she has to, even though she hates how she has to let go of Lauren’s hand for it.

She wonders what people on Twitter are saying about the night; since Lauren had been so inactive recently, the fandom will pretty much be buzzing with excitement, everyone hoping that Lauren wins in her category. But she _also_ wonders what people are saying about _them_ , because they’ve been holding hands pretty much the entire night. Clearly people shipping them had become a big _thing_ , if interviewers were asking Lauren about it.

She doesn’t even realise that they’re at Lauren’s category until she hears, “and the nominees for Best Actress in a TV Drama are…”

She didn’t know who any of the other nominees were, but she recognises a couple of big names and claps politely, but when she hears Lauren’s name, she puts on the proudest smile as if to say _yeah, that’s my baby_.

“And the Golden Globe goes to…” the presenter leaves a few seconds for the obligatory dramatic pause as she opens the envelope, “Lauren Jauregui from _Silverhollow_!”

Camila isn’t surprised; with Lauren’s talent, she’d known she had a big chance of winning. But when she looks over at her girlfriend, Lauren looks ridiculously stunned, and after a few moments, she snaps out of her stupor and throws herself on Camila in a hug.

Camila wraps her arms around Lauren tightly, hugging her back, murmuring about how proud she is, fully aware that every camera in the room is on them. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby.”

When Lauren pulls away from her, tears are shining in her eyes and she shares quick hugs with the director of the show, and Vero, Keana and Lucy before she goes up onto the stage and takes her award. When she gets up to the microphone, she lets out a cross between a laugh and a cry and says, “oh my god, okay, wasn’t expecting that. Okay, um, thank you so, so much, to everyone who has ever supported to me, to anyone who had anything to do with me getting the part on the show, um, to my amazing fellow cast members, especially Keana, Lucy and Vero, you guys are like sisters to me and you make me a better actor every single time I work with you. Um- thank you so much to my family, mami, papi, Chris and Tay, and my best friend Alexa back home, you’ve all supported me my whole entire life, and…. And most importantly, I want to thank my beautiful girlfriend Camila. I love you so much and I’m so grateful that you love me as much as I love you. Thank you.”

As everyone applauds Lauren as she walks off the stage, Camila watches her, her whole heart full with so much love. She hadn’t expected Lauren to _actually_ do it, partially because she’s always been such a private person, and she’s even _more_ stunned when Lauren gets back to the table and immediately pulls her in for a kiss, not caring about the cameras pointed at them, and that means even more to her. Camila cups her jaw, kissing her back, and when they pull away and Lauren sits down, she throws her arms around her in a hug, and it’s so cute that the only congratulations Lauren seems concerned about are _hers._

“I can’t believe I won,” Lauren mumbles once she’s gone around the table and given everyone hugs, and then pulled Camila in for another one. “I didn’t think I would.”

“You’re so talented, mi amor. Of course you were going to win,” Camila states the obvious, and Lauren looks at the award in her hands like it’s some kind of alien device. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Just- thank you for believing in me,” Lauren murmurs, leaning in for another quick kiss, “even before I _knew_ you were believing in me.”

Camila smiles, and as the next category is announced, she takes Lauren’s hand and holds it tight. “Always, Lo.”


End file.
